


Take A Bite

by thisislegit



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, M/M, Smart Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Smut, Vampire Goku, Vegeta being Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisislegit/pseuds/thisislegit
Summary: It hadn’t happened. The whole thing hadn’t happened. Vegeta reconciled himself that he’d imagined the whole thing. That someone at the bar slipped something in his drink, and the following event with the strange man was a dream sequence. A haunting, migraine-inducing, and horrific dream sequence.





	1. Fangtastic

**Author's Note:**

> first db fic whoop!  
> thank you
> 
>  
> 
> [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs)
> 
>  
> 
> for beta reading this!!!

Vegeta knew the man was trouble as soon as they’d made eye contact in the dingy nightclub. Messy hair, messy looking outfit that made him look bigger than he probably was, and his dancing was too wild for Vegeta to stand watching. Then again, looking at the other patrons, the big oaf seemed to fit right in. Night clubs weren’t something Vegeta frequented. In fact, he made it his point to avoid them, and most other generically social events laden with alcohol to “ease the tension”. A load of bullshit if you asked him which no one did, if someone needed alcohol to talk to someone, they shouldn’t bother talking at all.

This place that smelled of spilled beer, with its attempt at a modern design having glorified pleather barstools as chairs, and tables that managed to fit a person and a half at max, forcing groups of women and men to squeeze together if they wanted to have a conversation. Disgusting. All of it. So why was Vegeta here at all. Why did he bother dragging himself out of his regular routine to steep at the bar with a short glass of cola he hadn’t even sipped at.

“Vegeta? There you are. I thought you left, and you know what would’ve happened if you did that,” Bulma said as she took the empty barstool next to him.

It’s simple really. This blue-haired devil had held a knife to his throat.

“I’m aware,” He turned his glare down to the neon designated driver wristband. “Having fun?”

“I’d be having more fun if you got that stick out of your ass and joined me. Maybe you could even wingman me. Your glaring will definitely scare off the uglier ones,” She patted his arm.

“No.”

“Come on, it’ll be funny. You like laughing at people.”

“You’ll sooner catch me dead in an alley.”

Bulma tapped her chin in thought, “Am I going to have to pull my strings again? I will. I think I still have that picture of you from the new year’s party. The unspeakable one with the pink tho-.”

“Damn it woman, fine!”

Bulma lit up at that, asking the bartender for a shot that she downed without a thought before her arm hooked through Vegeta’s, and she was tugging him off the barstool and away from safety. He soon found himself at one of those tiny tables he’d scoffed, nearly shoulder to shoulder with Bulma and the group of misfits she called friends. Awful all of them. The little bald one with the cringey voice being the most annoying. How he got someone like 18 to date him had to have been a combination of low standards and persistence from Vegeta’s point of view.

“Hey Vegeta, long time no see,” Yamcha said with a smile.

“Not long enough in my opinion.”

Yamcha’s smile faltered a little, but Krillin laughed and Vegeta could tell from his smell that he’d already worked past the buzzed phase. His laughter managed to kill any awkward tension Vegeta wanted to implant as the last thing he wanted was for these people to talk to him. They seemed to take the hint continuing the conversation without him. He looked at his watch on occasion since Bulma was kind enough to give them a scheduled leaving time. Just two more hours of this, and he’d have peace for another few weeks from her tyranny.

When he looked up for the fifth time, he’d caught Bulma dragging 18 off to dance while idiot one headed to the bathroom and idiot two went to get another drink leaving Vegeta alone again. He’d be thankful if their sudden vacancy hadn’t reminded him how hot it was in this god forsaken place. Just two more hours. Just two more.

“Hey there,” said an obnoxious voice from above.

Vegeta looked up to see the clown he’d made eye contact with before. “No.”

“That’s kinda weird way to say hello,” The man took the seat next to him as if he belonged there.

How dare he. Vegeta narrowed his eyes at the other man, “Don’t talk to me, I’m straight.”

“Wow, you even got a good sense of humor,” The man laughed.

This cheeky bastard! Vegeta was going to deck him, but the man steam rolled the desire with the next words out of his mouth.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Goku.”

“And I’m none of your business,” he wouldn’t cause a scene. He wouldn’t play into this childish man’s desires. He’d make his displeasure known, the idiot would leave him be, and he’d continue counting the minutes until he could drop Bulma’s drunk ass off before going home himself.

“That’s a real long name. Do you got a nickname your friends call ya?”

“Not interested. I also go by fuck off.”

“You sure got a lot of nicknames,” Goku glanced down, “How ‘bout I call you designated driver.”

“How about I call you an ambulance.”

“Now why would I need one of those?”

Vegeta kept himself from putting his face into his hands. This Goku wasn’t a smartass like he’d first expected. He was, instead, a persistent idiot. Which wouldn’t do well for the headache he’d been building up since he was pulled through the door. This wasn’t how his night was supposed to go. He was supposed to be at home lying on the couch and batting away his cat from trying to eat his leftovers while the science channel played new documentaries for shark week.

But then Bulma had texted him asking him what he was doing. Had he known she would’ve shown up on his door step, an hour later, unannounced and demanding he “get out of his hole for a night” he would’ve lied. Said he was tied up in the office, or told her his cat started shitting blood or some nonsense like that so she wouldn’t have bothered. He learned his lesson this time though. Never again was he telling her the truth about his evening plans if they were to do nothing.

He knew he couldn’t get out of this conversation with a straight no, a roundabout no, or an hour long rant detailing why his answer was no, so he took out his phone and pulled up the timer on his clock app.

“I’m going to give you exactly ten seconds to make your case, and if I hate it I’m decking you.”

“Never been timed before, but I’ll take it,” Goku adjusted how he sat, placing his hands together on the table as if he were going to make a business deal instead of a flirty proposition. “Cuttin to the chase, I’m a vampire, and you look more than strong enough to handle making a little blood donation since I’m awful hungry.”

“Vampires aren’t real.”

“Are ya sayin I don’t exist?”

“No, I’m saying you’re either a hipster or a lunatic, and, based on your clothes, I’m going to assume it’s the latter.”

“Huh, so is that a yes or a no for givin me just a lil sip,” Goku had raised his hand almost pinching his thumb and forefinger together. “I could really go for a meal right now.”

“Even if I believed you, which I don’t, why in the hell would I let you drink from me! I make my own damn blood, and I don’t share,” Vegeta had scooted back in the tiny barstool ready to walk.

“That’s true, but you got a lotta blood, and you can always make more. Now, me on the other hand, I can’t do that.”

“Sucks for you.”

“So that’s a yes!” Goku smiled.

Vegeta snarled, “No it’s not, and this conversation is over!”

“That so? Cause ya said you’d give me ten seconds, and accordin to yer clock there it’s been like a minute and a half.”

Snatching his phone, Vegeta stood up only for Goku to stand up as well and that did it. He threw a right hook, Goku stepping back before it landed.

“Woah, woah woah,” Goku held his hands up in surrender, “Hey, if you’re that mad at me how about we take this outside?”

“With pleasure you insufferable buffoon.”

Vegeta’s blood was boiling at this point. He hadn’t had an actual fight in years, stuck with the usual spar he managed to wrangle out of an ex-coworker, and the crushing work-out routine he squeezed into his days away from the office. And this cocky bastard was asking, no, begging to be chucked into the concrete like the piece of trash he was. First he approached Vegeta rejecting his rejection, then he insulted his intelligence, and then he wants to play crazy with that stupid smile of his.

He was so busy stewing in his own anger, it wasn’t until the cool air from the alley hit him that he realized what he’d done. Not only had he followed a complete stranger out of a public place, but he also let the man isolate him giving him no time to tell anyone he knew inside where he was going, or what he was doing. Not to mention, the exact man he let do this preached about being a vampire and wanting to suck his blood. But what made all of this worse was the crippling fact that Bulma was right. He was shit at reading social situations. Well, it’s not like his adult life didn’t get filled with shit on the regular. Worst case scenario is the man had a knife on him.

“This is much better, don’t ya think?” Goku was bouncing on his heels before getting into a fighting stance.

“It’ll be better when I knock that smile off your face.” Vegeta couldn’t let his initial shock and mild irritation at himself for falling for this man’s tricks get to him. Instead, he latched onto the rage he felt earlier and struck out.

Goku dodged the first punch, and then the next. There was a side swipe with Vegeta’s leg that he leaped over before continuing to just narrowly escape a hit or two. Vegeta managed to catch his knuckles along Goku’s ear which startled him enough that the punch to the stomach which followed had him curling forward. Vegeta grinned down at the back of his head. Served the bastard right. He probably should’ve expected the headbutt to his own stomach from Goku before he was being tackled into the grimy brick of the building next door.

His back knocked hard into the wall, his spine missing the rusty, metal piping that managed to trap his arm against his side. Goku had a firm grip on his opposite wrist and kept his arm pressed hard against Vegeta’s clavicle, keeping him in place. He tried shifting his hips to get his knee up for any kind of leverage only for Goku to step on one foot and press a knee into the wall between his thighs, his pelvis pressing hard into Vegeta’s hip.

“Really shook me up there! Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Goku was still smiling carefree as if he didn’t have Vegeta in the world’s most awkward grapple.

Vegeta didn’t bother answering trying to think fast. He was in the shit now. This man had him pinned with his freezing cold hands, a leg between his thighs threatening his own genitalia, and was clearly working with two braincells since he thought he was a vampire. He needed to stall long enough to get out of this before something happened that he would regret.

“It’s judo.”

Goku’s eyes widened at getting a legitimate response, “That looked like more than just judo though.”

“I also know kick boxing and some acrobatics,” His eyes darted right to left trying to spot a passing car or anything. He could yell, but who knows if that’d get him any traction. Hell he could still hear the thumping bass through the wall. “I’ve also been taking taekwondo recently.”

“Ya really are a man a’ many talents,” Goku said with a low whistle.

“How did you learn how to fight.” That’s right simple minded moron. Give Vegeta enough time to wiggle out of this.

“I been fightin a real long time, actually,” Goku’s stomach growled and he had the nerve to blush, “Sorry, got a little bit carried away there. Almost forgot what we came back here for.”

Fuck. Vegeta’s sleeve tore against the metal pipe as he struggled to get out of the hold. It proved fruitless. The man’s grip had turned to steel as he turned Vegeta around pinning him again with his arms behind his back. Goku had one hand wrapped around his wrists and the other in Vegeta’s hair to keep the line of his neck exposed.

“Fightin does get the blood pumpin don’t it?” Goku teased.

Was this freaky pervert honestly about to either bite at his neck fruitlessly, or do literal muscle damage from what was a lack of sanity?

“ENOUGH. DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE A VAMPI-AAAAAAHH.”

Goku’s teeth had become elongated and sharp, there wasn’t a flat molar among the bunch making Vegeta wonder how he managed to close his mouth without biting his own tongue off. Speaking of tongue, Goku’s was impossibly long and slick dragging along the cord of his neck sending a tingling along his jawline. What was he doing? WHAT WAS HE DOING? Vegeta tried thrashing, and then his screaming was replaced by a wet choking when the teeth pierced flesh and muscle.

Every muscle in Vegeta’s body had tensed from the sudden pressure. His legs, arms, stomach and fists clenched so tight he was sure something would tear. Of course this didn’t compare to the fire he felt when Goku began to suck. A more nasal choking came from his mouth while his eyes blinked furiously his mind not processing the event. His ears caught onto a few small pleased grunts even as Goku’s lips were suctioned tight against his skin.

The next odd thing that happened during this was Vegeta’s muscles beginning to relax. His head started to feel cloudy almost thick with murk or fog. Despite, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, his body was becoming weak, no not quite weak, more limp as he relied on Goku’s arms to keep him standing during the onslaught. Seconds turned to minutes which felt like hours and Vegeta started to wonder just how much blood he had in him when he couldn’t stand on his own two feet much longer.

It was a relief when Goku pulled back, his bloodied teeth starting to recede. Vegeta was sweating like he’d run a marathon, his body hotter than it had been inside the club, and his legs too useless to crawl with much less walk on.

“You taste real good, designated driver, but I think I took a lil bit too much,” Goku licked his lips before swiping his tongue along the wound, the skin starting to heal even faster.

A weak moan escaped Vegeta’s lips, Goku’s tongue too cold against his burning skin. He really did make everything worse. The hand in his hair went from gripping to a soft petting, and oh that felt so damn condescending.

“Sorry to dine n’ dash, but I’m gonna go get one of yer friends for ya, and they can take ya home. Hope ya don’t mind,” Goku was easing him down onto the ground, so that Vegeta sat propped up against the brick.

Another weak moan came from Vegeta, and he knew, deep in his heart, from his carefree smile to his ugly clothes, that he would kill this man. The death sentence was sealed when Goku pressed a light kiss against his nose.

“Hope to see ya again real soon, maybe I can even learn yer name next time.”

And with that Vegeta passed out.


	2. I’ll have mine de-coffin-ated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs) for beta reading this, youre a lifesaver ;0;

It hadn’t happened. The whole thing hadn’t happened. Vegeta reconciled with himself that he’d imagined the exchange. That someone at the bar slipped something in his drink, and the following event with the strange man was a dream sequence. A haunting, migraine-inducing, and horrific dream sequence, because he had blurry memories of Bulma yelling at him before he actually woke up the next morning on his couch. Sure, he smelled like sweat and liquor, and there was an IOU note in his wallet for the taxi from Bulma, but the lack of holes in his neck meant it was a dream. The muscles of his neck ached if he leaned his head too far this way or that way, but he’d slept on the couch, and that was reason enough.

He’d slipped back into his routine as if nothing happened. Wake up, eat breakfast, feed his cat, ignore her crying long enough to get dressed, shake her bowl so that she understands yes, there is food in there, watch tv, lint roll cat hair off his dress pants because she decided to relax with him for a while, shake the food in her bowl again so she’d stop crying, and go to work.

Yamcha had been _kind_ enough to drop Vegeta’s car off after the incident, which meant he owed the man a favor, and that left a nasty taste in his mouth. From there his routine at work picked up. Clock in, clean up his desk, prepare his files, make a few phonecalls, move files from one place to the next, yell at people in the office, make copies, have his break with a lunch from the convenience store, get files he was supposed to have gotten earlier than he had, yell at people on the phone, bitch with Chichi about the lack of resources, be too tired to clean his desk at the end of the night, and clock out.

What followed next was his nightly routine, go grocery shopping for dinner, get home, put his food in the oven, shower while dinner was cooking, put on his pajamas, stay up long enough to refill his cat’s bowl while yelling at her for getting her toys everywhere, eat dinner, watch something mindless so he could pretend he had free time, and go to bed. A couple of weeks had passed like this, with Vegeta being able to get back into his workout routine on his off days; the ache in his neck fading slowly but surely, since it wasn’t difficult to forget about what happened.

In fact, it was easy. Infuriatingly so. Almost like the man’s face, that had become more blurred at the edges by the day, wasn’t something his mind wanted to come back to. He tried to paint features, and expressions when the image of the bastard got too blurry. The fear and rage Vegeta felt mixed in with the excitement of a new, unknown encounter. A different kind of feeling. A different kind of fight. He couldn’t let himself slip into that though, because what good would it do? He didn’t even know what he wanted from the man besides to see him fall off his high horse, and to be responsible for it. Which would be so much easier now that he knew what he was dealing with. He knew the guy wasn’t a vampire. That part was bullshit, and the human mind could craft anything with the right atmosphere. That man was something else entirely. He was someone who could actually catch Vegeta off-guard in a fight, and that was something he could understand. Though, the chances of him running into that strange man again was another story.

Vegeta decided to stop thinking about him when a new project got dropped into their department going into the new month. He wasn’t the project leader, but he was responsible for making sure everyone’s submitted files were in order with the latest, accurate information so as not to botch things up. The truest test of his patience would be all the overtime that would follow from people asking a hundred questions on proper procedure they’d be trained in.

See, Vegeta learned early that screaming at someone was more likely to get him sent to a seminar on appropriate business conduct than it was to get shit done. Therefore, it was much better, and more productive to tear others down with information gathered about them, or to even use their own words against them. Sure, he always saved the yelling for when things were at a breaking point with deadlines, when he knew he was being played with, or, most importantly, when someone tried to tell him how to do his job, but it was a necessary evil that must be used sparingly. A good example of his alternative method happened to be the current conference call, from a different department, with someone basically doing the same job as him.

“Listen, Vegeta, I know what you’re department has to do, but considering the time constraints we’re under, I think you’d be able to handle a bit more than what you’re dealing with.”

Vegeta’s fist was loosely clenched around his phone, “Oh, is that what you think.”

“Well, yes. I feel as though-.”

“You feel? We’re talking about your feelings now,” his tone was curt showing his distaste.

“Now Vegeta-.”

“Last I checked, we were having a business call, not a therapy session. This isn’t the time, nor the place, for you to talk about your thoughts, or your feelings. My department is handling our assignment with the utmost precision to get what we were assigned completed by the deadline or earlier. If the nimrods you call staff under you can’t bare to deal with what’s supposed to be their usual routine, then that sounds like a problem for your department head, not for us. Have I made myself clear?”

There was the awkward clearing of a throat from the other end of the line before the voice said, “Let me know of any pressing information you find out.”

“I’ll be sure to email you.” Vegeta hung up without a goodbye.

Grabbing his sanitizer, he squirted a small palmful into his hands and checked the time. Shit. He’d missed his regular lunch break. They’d have to manage without him during crunch time. He knew if he pushed eating back any further, he wouldn’t eat until he got home late that night, which would ruin his stomach the next morning. Vegeta quickly rubbed his hands together, so they’d dry faster, and shrugged his jacket on. The grocery store would have lunches cheaper than the convenience store at this hour, so it looked like he’d be going there today. Good thing the place was nearby. The heat seemed worse this time of the year, and he was down to wearing one suit jacket a day, unless he wanted to walk in smelling like a pack mule.

He turned the light off in his office, and stepped out of the cool, stressful building into the welcoming arms of dry heat with a sigh. Five more hours. Just five more hours, and he’d be free.

His phone vibrated in his pocket as he walked inside the grocery store which, apparently, was having a sale from all the bright signs that read 10% or 20% off. Looks like he was going to do more than buy lunch today. Grabbing a basket, he pulled out his phone to see the sender.

Blue Witch: hey vegeta~! you still joining me for yoga this saturday?  
Vegeta: No.  
Blue Witch: (Photo Attached) so, I’ll see you at 10AM at the regular gym!  
Vegeta: Fuck you.

He pocketed his cell before reading the reply, and went to reach for a bottle of tea when another hand grazed his reaching for the same bottle.

“Oh hey, long time no see, designated driver,” said the familiar voice.

Vegeta wasn’t sure if it was the shock from running into the man again, or the fear from his memory of what happened the last time they met, that made his fist react first, as he decked the man in the mouth.

“AH FUCK.” His hands were covering his mouth and nose, his sunglasses falling forward enough to see that his eyes were clenched shut. “OW.”

“Don’t startle me like that,” Vegeta snapped. Shit, what was this man’s name again? Something stupid like Gokart. Gokon? Goken? Whatever. The bigger question is, what the hell was he doing here in the middle of the day?

“Did ya really hafta punch me!” He pulled his hands away from his face, and reached into his mouth to pull out a tooth. “Aw man, now I gotta wait for this to grow back.”

“Adult teeth don’t grow back,” Vegeta gritted out.

The man was wiggling his tongue along the freed section of gum in his mouth, “Ha, you sound jus’ like my old dentist.”

His phone vibrated in his pocket again reminding him he was on a time limit. From the tooth comment, to the man’s full cart of groceries, Vegeta knew he had to make a choice between eating, or letting this encounter amount to nothing, leaving him with questions he’d never be able to answer on his own. Making his choice, he set his hand basket in the man’s cart and grabbed his arm.

“You’re coming with me.”

“Can I check out first?”

“No, you can’t,” Vegeta began pulling him out of the drink aisle, and, thankfully, he didn’t resist.

This was how Vegeta found himself sitting on a café balcony with the stranger from a month ago, who was smiling with glee in his eyes, blowing bubbles with his straw into his drink. Vegeta noticed after coming out with an espresso and a bagel, that the man had angled the umbrella on the table to give himself all of the shade, leaving Vegeta to the sun’s mercy. The man was also wearing long loose sleeves, sunglasses, and seemed to be covering as much skin as possible with his attire. Though his clothes were brightly colored, he seemed to be pushing this vampire aesthetic.

Vegeta watched the bubbles reach the edge of the cup and said, “Stop it.”

The man gave him a bashful smile, as he let the straw drop from his lips, “Sorry Vegeta.”

“How in the hell do you know my name!”

The man tapped a finger to his chest, and Vegeta reached up feeling his nametag on his lapel. Of course. He narrowed his eyes at the other man, and, hell, what was his name again. Goten, Gobun, Goran, Goking? None of those sounded right. He took off his jacket, letting it fall back onto his chair. He’d remember it soon enough.

“Good to see you can read,” Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest.

“I can do lotsa stuff.” The man sat up straight in his chair, taking his sunglasses off once he was sure of the shade around him, “So, it’s been a month. Whatcha been up to?”

“I’m the one asking questions here.”

“Pardon me. I haven’t been on a date in a while, so I’m not sure about what’s changed.”

“This is not a date.”

“Really?” The man tilted his head, “Cause you dragged me out of the store real eager to bring me to this cute café.”

“That’s because you left me with a lot of questions.”

“Like a date,” His smile was coming back onto his face, making a dimple dip into his cheek.

“No, not like a date. I dragged you here so that I could interrogate you.”

The man opened his mouth.

“If you say like a date I will take that straw and shove it down your urethra!”

He closed his mouth, the smile on his face too smug for Vegeta’s liking.

Taking a breath, Vegeta said, “You lured me out into an alleyway, pinned me against the wall, and left me unconscious after giving me that vampire load. I’ll be damned if I let you walk away a second time without consequences.”

The man rested his elbow on the table, and put his hand into his cheek, his grin looking sharper, “Sorry Vegeta, could ya tell me what I did to you again?”

“Wha-,” Vegeta’s face colored, “You fucking pervert, you know what I meant.”

“I do, but I guess I’m a little confused to what you want me to say. I told you I’m a vampire, and I was hungry, and then I drank from you. Seems pretty simple to me.”

“If you’re a vampire, then why the hell were you grocery shopping?”

“Cause I like to eat. I need blood to live, but eatin’s always been fun.”

“Why didn’t I wake up with holes in my neck?”

“That kinda thing kept getting vampires caught and killed, so we evolved to have spit that heals up those kinda wounds. Makes people wonder if it really happened or not.”

He was right. Vegeta refused to admit it though.

“How are you out in the sun?”

The man tapped his cheek, “Well if I’m out in the sun for too long it’ll kill me, but I can be out for a few hours at a time as long as I cover up. This vampire life ain’t for everybody.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing considering how easy things seem for you.”

“Really? I think you’re too cute to handle the kinda life I live.”

Vegeta squared his shoulders, “And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?

“I mean, you followin’ me to the alley to kick my butt, draggin’ me to this café to get me alone, and interrogatin’ me so you can feel like you’re in control of the situation? It’s cute,” He stirred the straw in his cup before placing his lips back around it.

Was this asshole serious? Vegeta was in control of the situation. He could knock that damn umbrella out of it’s holder, and beat the shit out of the bastard with it if he wanted...but what if that was what he wanted. Afterall, the man had manipulated him, making him angry enough for Vegeta to follow him into that alley. What if meeting Vegeta in the grocery store was also apart of his plan? How many secret ploys could this fake vampire have? He didn’t like being played, but this asshole was doing it like he was made for the task, and that pissed Vegeta off even more. Then the fake vampire had gone back to blowing bubbles in his drink, the level of latte to rim now more distant after a long sip.

Faint flickers of rage began to mingle with his work exhaustion making him clench his fists in his lap. He had a few options that would determine what would happen next. Vegeta could continue to poke and prod at the stranger, giving him what he wanted, which was Vegeta’s time. Fuck, the jerk might take another bite out of him again to add insult to injury. He could turn the man’s own game against him. Manipulate him like he’d done to Vegeta, and make him look like a fool. Or, and this left the worst taste in his mouth, Vegeta could walk away. He didn’t have to be here enduring this humiliation. He had his pride and a routine. This guy showed Vegeta he would be trouble. Bragged about it with that stupid smile on his face, and rubbed it in.

At the end of the day, Vegeta had a job, a cat, and a familiar but comfortable routine that would all be at risk if he pursued this path. Too bad Vegeta hated losing.

“Give me one piece of evidence that you’re in control of this mess.”

“Oh, that’s easy Vegeta. I can tell you’ve been tryin’ to forget what happened, so it’s obvious ya don’t remember my name. I mean, ya haven’t said it once.”

Shit. “Of course I remember it.”

The man had both elbows on the table now, smile still on his face, as he rested his cheeks in his hands, “What is it then?”

“I hardly find it necessary for me to say your name at all.”

“Sounds like somethin’ someone would say when they don’t remember a person’s name. I’ll be real nice about it too, you get three tries.”

“Gohan.”

“Nope,” The vampire pulled out a pen from his pocket. “Two more tries.”

Vegeta sneered, “Gobri.”

“One more try,” The jerk grabbed a piece of paper from the table and began writing on the back of it.

Damn it.

“Go...kkun.” Vegeta narrowed his eyes as the man’s hand paused before he set his pen down.

“Almost, but nope.” The stranger leaned back into his chair putting away his pen. “Well, this was fun, but I gotta start headin’ home. Already been outside for too long.”

“Who the hell said you could leave. I haven’t finished-.”

“You can ask me as many questions as you like next time,” The fake vampire slid the piece of paper over to Vegeta.

“There won’t be a next time!”

“Course there will Geta,” The man raised two fingers to his forehead and winked at him, “See ya around.”

Vegeta had to stop himself from clutching his chest watching the bastard literally blink out of existence. WHAT THE FUCK. How did he do that? How did he do that! Was he a damn magician now? What the hell happened. No, stop. Calm down. Breathe. Take a breath in, hold for five seconds, let it out slowly through his nose. Rinse and repeat. Don’t scream. Do not scream. He looked down at the slip of paper the stranger left seeing a name and a number on it.

Goku? Vegeta raised a hand to his forehead rubbing his temples. This was clearly another method used to manipulate him, because Goku had left Vegeta with the bill, and a headache.


	3. Bat News Travels Fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you again to [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs) for beta'ing this chapter on his phone!!!! u didnt have to go that far thank you ;0;  
> next chapter is almost finished and turns out this fic is gonna be a little longer than expected

His cat meowed as she rubbed between his ankles before hopping into his lap. Vegeta had his phone in one hand, and Goku’s number in the other. He looked down at his cat, who returned the stare before she meowed at him.

“No, I’m not going to call him. That’s what he wants me to do,” He turned his phone off to make a point.

She meowed at him again.

“Shut up Peaches, you’re named after a fruit, what do you know.”

She curled into his lap starting to purr, and he tossed his phone onto the coffee table, the case making a soft clunk. It had been a Tuesday when he ran into Goku the second time, and now it was Saturday morning. He was sitting on the couch in his pajama pants, the receipt from the café in one hand, and his other hand petting his cat’s back. Vegeta had the ball thrown back into his court, but Goku was getting all the points, and it pissed him off. Everything about Goku pissed him off. His name, his voice, his clothes, and his terrible, sharp-toothed smile.

He wrinkled the paper in his fist before setting it onto the table next to his phone. He’d picked up and put down the paper enough that the numbers had started to fade. Didn’t matter though. He’d already memorized the digits. What was wrong with him? Vegeta never let anyone push him to such a point of confusion and frustration before. Then again, Goku was insisting that he was a vampire, which didn’t make him like anyone else, did it? He lifted Peaches from his lap so he could lie on his back along the couch, before putting her back onto his stomach. As soon as he let go, she wormed her way up to rest on his chest, pressing her face into his to be a nuisance.

The music channel he’d left the TV on continued to play as he let time pass along. Peaches continued to purr on his chest, her head tucked under his chin, and Vegeta let his hands rest folded together on his stomach. Every so often he’d start to drift off, and, maybe, he’d fall asleep for a bit before a more dramatic classical song would play pulling him out of it. Usually, after the third or fourth time he’d snap awake, he’d started working out. Put in an exercise DVD, or get his weights to practice his stretches, but today the sun sneaking in from behind the curtains made his bones feel weary.

Vegeta had woken up earlier than usual that morning, tossing and turning before finally getting up long enough to feed his cat and make breakfast. His eyes heavy during the whole run through of tossing on pants, opening a can of wet food, and cooking eggs. He’d only perked up when he saw Goku’s number under the repair shop magnet he’d gotten for free on the fridge. It wasn’t enough to keep him from lying on the couch like he was now, but it’d forced him to think. And think he did. For hours he was caught between thinking, dozing off, and pressing a hand into Peaches’ orange and black fur.

When had his routine become so mundane? From elementary school until high school, Vegeta had been in martial arts tournaments, or gotten close to them when he was on a team. When he lost, it was ugly and humiliating, but when he won, or got his revenge over a past defeat, it’d been so satisfying he was smiling for days. However, martial arts tournaments didn’t pay the bills unless they were international, and world tournaments were expensive to enter. His father had let him know, without preamble, his distaste for Vegeta’s dream. He needed a real job, his father said. He couldn’t get a wife and children with a few fake gold trophies and pride alone.

Peaches purred louder like she could sense his mood growing more sour. She moved her head to lick the stubble on his jaw making his lips curl.

“That’s disgusting,” he said.

She didn’t stop until she was satisfied, letting out a “brrt” sound, as she rested her head back under his chin. The doorbell rang next, and Vegeta let out a huff of breath. Go away. He interacted with enough people during the week, and he needed to be alone today. A rapid knocking followed, but he stayed quiet. He didn’t make any online orders, so whoever was outside was either Bulma or one of her damn friends sent to check up on him. If he ignored them long enough, they would go away. His car was visible in front of his townhouse, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t gone for a walk. The doorbell rang two more times in clear annoyance.

“Ring all you want, I’m not answering the door,” Vegeta muttered.

The sound of keys jangling made him realize it was Bulma, and he groaned when he heard the door squeak open.

“Vegeta? I know you’re home.”

Maybe if he stayed quiet and didn’t move, she wouldn’t see him. He heard the front door close, the rustle of clothing as she took off her jacket? Shoes maybe? The soft padding of her socks against the floor followed, and she peered over the couch with her hands on her hips. Damn.

“That key is for emergencies only,” Vegeta took the defensive.

“You were supposed to meet me for yoga this morning,” Bulma said.

“I forgot.” Not a lie. He had forgotten, because he’d been obsessing over Goku, and what exactly to do about him. To act or not to act? To play into his hands, or keep what was left of his pride after being messed with like a damn snack. He’d already compared himself to that stupid latte Goku ordered six times this week, the vampire bastard playing with him before almost sucking him dry and vanishing right after. He really needed to find a better way to word that. Bulma must’ve noticed the grimace on his face, since she sighed walking around the couch to sit on his calves.

He hadn’t even wanted to get a couch. Hell, Vegeta didn’t want to get a lot of things that filled his small townhouse. He figured the bed and TV for his room would be enough, but then Bulma came barreling into his life making him go furniture shopping, forcing him to take pictures, and talk to people outside of work. Ugh. Some pictures had hung up on the wall of him with her or her rag tag group of friends. Others were of him when he was younger, in his blue gi, from his fighting days. None had his father in them. She’d made him frame and hang up a lot of his old certificates, and his diploma, saying he needed to put some life into this place. She’d even got him Peaches two years ago as a birthday gift. Now that he’d thought about it, Bulma made him do a lot of things. His protests fell on deaf ears her sometimes relying on blackmail and other times just badgering him enough that he went along with it. Wait a minute.

“Have you been flirting with me?” Vegeta shifted his legs under her ass.

“I mean, I stopped flirting with you several years ago, but thanks for noticing.”

He could already hear his father’s voice in his head proclaiming that he was a fool. He could’ve had a wife and a child by now had he noticed, and blah blah blah.

“Why do you keep bothering with me.” When the words left his mouth, Vegeta hated how pitiful they sounded, and his lips curled into a sneer. “I mean, why do you keep annoying me.”

“Because you’re my friend. My gay, depressed friend.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Yes, you are Vegeta. You’re a gay, depressed, virgin with anger issues.”

Vegeta moved Peaches to rest on his face, so he wouldn’t have to look at her, “I’m not a virgin.”

“Oh yeah? Who did you have sex with then? What was his name? Michael McDoesn’t Exist?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Pot meet kettle, kettle meet pot,” Bulma leaned back into the couch making herself comfortable as she felt around for the remote.

There was a pause as Bulma continued to get comfortable. Vegeta moved Peaches off his face, keeping his eyes closed as she rag dolled in his hands.

“Who’s Goku?”

He jerked upright making Peaches yowl as she leaped off his chest and dashed into the kitchen. “Give me that!”

Bulma looked at him and then gracefully leaped off the couch and out of his reach, “Whoooo’s Goookuuu?”

Vegeta got off the couch as well ready to chase her, but she made her way to the other side of the couch forcing him to bob and weave in case she tried to go into another room. “Damn it Bulma, give me that paper.”

“They drew little hearts around their name. Ooohh, Vegeta. Is he why you forgot our yoga session?”

“First of all how do you know that’s not a woman. Second, stop calling me gay,” He’d almost nabbed her, but she skipped out of his reach at the last minute.

“There’s not a woman in the world named Goku. And I don’t know why you’re so against the idea. You’re pushing 40, and you live with a cat.”

“That you bought for me!”

“Yeah, and Peaches is wonderful. I just wish she could smack some sense into you, maybe this Goku guy can do it to you though,” Bulma waggled her eyebrows.

“You vulgar woman,” He managed to wrap his arms around her waist reaching his arm out to try and grab the damn paper. Unfortunately, she was taller than him and holding it just out of his reach.

“Now I know you’re into him. Had it been any other person’s number you would’ve told me to do whatever I wanted with it,” She twisted in his hold as he grunted trying to shift her arm close enough to no avail. “If you tell me who he is, I’ll keep him a secret until you’re ready.”

“…..FINE.”

The receipt was placed into Vegeta’s hand, and he let go of her. He couldn’t tell her that Goku claimed to be a vampire. She’d either believe him, or think he was crazy, and he didn’t know which would be worse. He needed to think of a suitable lie that would keep her from prying too deep.

“He’s a martial artist I ran into, and I’m debating on challenging him to a fight,” He took a seat back on the couch.

“You’ve never been the type to think about accepting a fight. Afraid you’ll throw your old man back out?”

“I’d do no such thing, and the situation is more complicated than I’m willing to admit,” He crossed his arms, the paper crumpled in his fists as he leaned back into the couch cushions. “Basically, if I call him I’m playing right into his hands.”

“But didn’t he give you his number so that you could call him first? I mean, I doubt you returned the favor.”

Vegeta huffed. Why didn’t he think of that? Actually, he could’ve texted Goku his number and made the bastard call him. He could still do that. No, that was a stupid idea. Vegeta would still be in the position of extending the olive branch, and he was sure Goku would take the whole damn tree up by its’ roots.

“This guy’s really got you in knots. I’m glad to have confirmation that it was you and not that there was something wrong with me,” Bulma went on.

“Why would there be something wrong with you?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Vegeta, do you even remember how we met?”

He did remember. They were both in the gym and, by some series of events, she was running when she tripped over him during his stretches. He wasn’t very nice to her at the time, but she insisted on getting his business card in case there was serious damage to her person, and she could hold him accountable.

“I’d been flirting with you since day one. We even went on dates.”

“We didn’t go on dates.”

“Yes, we did. The amusement park, the movies, the beach. Vegeta, I was literally all over you for the beach date.”

He hadn’t thought of those scenarios as romantic. Each time Bulma got him alone his mind was running on autopilot with questions. Why was she holding his arm so snugly? Why was she rubbing his shoulders. Why was she insistent upon needing to apply sunscreen to each other every damn hour as if-.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Oh my god, those were dates.”

“At first I thought I was doing something wrong, but then I thought, no that can’t be it. I’m a real catch. I’m beautiful, intelligent, rich, my boobs are amazing,” She counted her fingers off as she spoke.

“Don’t forget modest.”

“And then I realized that no matter what woman I brought around you, you acted the same way with them. So I just stopped because I came to the conclusion that you were a dumbass. A handsome, stupid, stupid dumbass”

“I want to understand what any of that has to do with you calling me gay,” Vegeta pulled his hand away from his nose.

“I’m not saying you’re gay because you’re not attracted to me, I’m saying it because I see how you look at other men versus women, and it’s so very different,” She brushed a few curls of hair behind her ear, “You should call him. Experiment. Have fun for once in your life.”

“I’m 100% sure I hate him.”

“Knowing you, you probably just hate the fact that you find him attractive, and you’re getting it confused with regular hate.”

“Highly unlikely,” Vegeta placed the crumpled up paper back onto the table, “So, how was yoga.”

The subject change was clunky, but Bulma must’ve been feeling merciful as she went along with it. Their conversation was brief, pun not intended, and she made him promise to come to yoga with her next week. She teased him, suggesting to bring Goku along, and he chased her out of his house with a few curses on his lips while she laughed at his irritation.

Once he locked the door, he went back into the living room looking at his phone and the balled up receipt. Fuck it. He’d play along, but he wasn’t going to lose this time.


	4. Sucker for Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs) for the beta!

Tien owed him a favor. That was the only reason he would be standing in this dojo, that’s actually a karate school, on a Saturday night. A large blue mat sat on the floor, and there was a wall length mirror instead of windows within the brightly lit facility. He sat in one of the chairs near the door in his blue gi that he hadn’t worn since graduating. He never sparred in it, but his regular workout clothes seemed too revealing considering how easily Goku turned their conversations around. He was also surprised it still fit. Mostly. He hadn’t grown any taller, but the pants were now a little tight at his thighs. Thankfully, they wouldn’t tear. The material was thick, and he made sure to stretch and kick in every which way to be sure as a warm-up. Which left him here, alone, at eight at night, waiting for the late bastard.

Vegeta hadn’t planned on doing this without an audience. The last thing he wanted was to put himself in another situation he couldn’t get out of since this place didn’t have cameras. However, Goku was insistent that he wouldn’t be available during the day for the next couple weeks. Just remembering their phone call brought a sneer to his face.

_The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. He swore if he was sent to voicemail after stewing over this for so long he’d toss the piece of paper into oncoming traffic. Five times. Six. Seven. Was he doing this on purpose? Seeing how long he Vegeta would wait before the bastard answered. Nine. Ten. Ele-_

_“Hello?” A sleepy voice answered._

_“Do you always keep people waiting when they call,” Vegeta looked at the time on his cable box. Bulma had been over for a while, because it was a little past three._

_“Sorry ‘Geta, these are normally my sleepin hours. Specially when I’m out all night,” Another yawn came from Goku._

_“Don’t call me that.”_

_“Call ya what?”_

_“Don’t shorten my name because you feel like it.”_

_There was the shifting of fabric, a clunk from something hitting the ground, and a small curse before Goku’s voice came back, “Pardon, I was puttin on pants. What did ya say again?”_

_Vegeta let out a frustrated growl._

_“So what did ya call me for ‘Geta? Nother date? I’m free tonight.”_

_Oh no. Goku wasn’t going to go this route. Vegeta knew a trap when he saw it, and refocused the topic, “You said you were out all night. Why?”_

_“You know, just lookin’ for a bite.” He could imagine Goku shrugging his shoulders._

_“Did you manage to trick anyone else with your manipulative nonsense.”_

_“Ah ‘Geta, that’s awful personal of ya to ask. I wouldn’t wanna embarrass nobody,” Goku’s tone sounded a bit shy. He was so full of shit._

_“So you did bite someone else.”_

_“Yeah. Are ya jealous? Cause you sound jealous.”_

_Vegeta was out of his seat, his face red with rage, “I’M NOT JEALOUS.”_

_“If you wanted me to wait for ya to get better all ya had to do was ask,” There was another shifting of fabric in the background, “I try not to double dip, but I really wanna taste ya again.”_

_Vegeta’s face was now red for a different reason, and just how in the hell did he lose track of this conversation so quickly. He needed to regroup. Why did he call the man? Goku had given Vegeta his number and promised to answer his questions. Vegeta had a lot of them too, but for some reason he couldn’t remember a single one. At least not at this time. He should’ve written them down, but he’d been at work each time the spiral of thoughts struck him forcing him to backtrack what he was doing or even redo entire documents. What did he want from Goku? Oh, that’s right._

_“I want a rematch.”_

_“Hm?”_

_Finally he managed to catch the other man off guard, “I said I want a rematch. I’m going to kick your ass, and make you regret you ever decided to fuck with me.”_

_There was a humming sound from Goku and another pause before he answered, “You know what’ll happen if ya lose right?”_

_“I won’t lose.”_

_“Are ya sure you don’t wanna just go on another date?” Goku didn’t sound hesitant or smug, but just the idea that Vegeta would rather be doing anything with the man that wasn’t breaking his face made him seethe._

_“I’m going to slam you into a wall so many times you’ll wish you had stayed dead you insufferable halfwit.”_

_“That seems like it’ll get messy.”_

_“For you? Yes.”_

_“I can’t believe it.”_

_“You’ll be too bloodied and bruised to do anything when I’m done with you, so you’d better.”_

_“Ya gonna pin me against the wall like I did you?” Goku’s tone revealed nothing._

_Vegeta snorted, “What good would my victory be with your back to me. No, Goku, I’m going to have you on your knees begging me for mercy.”_

_“I hope that’s a promise and not a threat,” Goku sounded too pleased with himself, “Cause yer talkin like ya really want me beggin’ Vegeta.”_

Vegeta clenched his fists in his lap, his face coloring from the memory. Bulma was wrong. He hated that man and was going to kill him. He glanced at his phone seeing the time was 8:15 when the door slowly creaked open.

“Hello?” Goku’s wild hair peaked out before his face did, as he looked around.

“Come in, and shut the door,” Vegeta stood, putting his phone into his bag.

Goku walked in with a gym bag of his own and a smile on his face, “Wow, ya really went all out for me, huh?”

He didn’t reply. The long sleeves felt more like protection now under those eyes. He was very glad to have decided against sweatpants and a tank top. Goku wasn’t even dressed for a fight. He was wearing a thick looking coat with a high collar and long sleeves. His pants were also too loose and baggy.

“Is there anywhere I can change?” Goku held up his bag.

“Bathroom’s over there,” Vegeta pointed to the other end of the room with the white door.

“Thanks, be out in a second.”

He wanted to scold Goku, but he was already late. Taking a couple minutes to change was only delaying the inevitable. Vegeta knew the man was strong. He remembered the steel grip on his arms in the alley way, so he couldn’t rely on overpowering him with muscle. He’d seen enough vampire movies to know Goku held a lithe muscular structure at best under all that big clothing. Vegeta smirked at his reflection. If he got a hold of the bastards’ ankles it’d be over.

“Sorry for the wait.”

A flash of orange appeared in the mirror, and he had to stop himself from choking on his tongue. Goku was far from lithe. He was wider than Vegeta! Thick muscles went down from his neck, and the low v-neck of his ridiculous orange gi showed a wide expanse of his chest. It was then he realized that Goku’s clothes weren’t chosen with the intent to make him look bigger, they were to make him look smaller, more approachable, and easy to underestimate. Fucking hell. No, this was fine. He could still handle this. Vegeta had always dealt with people taller or wider than him, and Goku would be no different. The shifting of weight was in Vegeta’s favor.

“Uh, Geta? You ready?” Goku waved a hand in front of his face.

“Stop calling me that,” Vegeta walked to stand in the middle of the mat. “Come on then.”

“All right, but do you want me to hold back?”

“What did you just say.”

Goku looked bashful again, as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I got vampire strength, so I was wonderin if ya wanted me to just use human level strength.”

“If you hold back on me I’ll take out your spine and beat you with it.”

“Noted,” Goku went to stand opposite of Vegeta. He did a quick motion of bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, rolling his neck and shoulders, before dropping into a fighting stance.

Vegeta was going to wipe the smile off that face. He had to be careful. The last time they fought, Vegeta was so determined to hit him he hadn’t noticed himself slowly being cornered until it was too late. This time, he waited. He watched. A punch or a kick would be tossed out here and there to see how Goku reacted. While doing this, Vegeta also had to keep himself from getting grappled. A flip away here. A cross step back there, and he’d dropped down to his legs and rolled away multiple times. Goku was starting to read him too, and he could tell Vegeta didn’t want to get held down, hence why he kept going for it.

Goku’s style was, in his best description, bouncy. Even when he was in one spot, he didn’t stop bouncing on the balls or the heels of his feet. His kicks were high, so the height difference made him have to adjust, which he did fast. The first time Vegeta thought the high kick was an opening almost got him locked between those legs. The type of martial arts Goku did was so mixed with styles he hadn’t even seen, forcing Vegeta into doing more acrobatics to get away from those arms than he had in a decade. When Goku got too close, or almost grabbed him, Vegeta could see the edges of sharp teeth poking out between his lips. A warning of what was to come if he wasn’t fast enough. If his movements turned too jerky or random.

Vegeta was panting at this point, and Goku looked like he hadn’t broken a sweat. He’d caught the vampire in his jaw with a good punch, and in the side with a well-placed kick, but Vegeta’s lowering stamina gave him few options. He needed to either get the bastards’ calves and twist him into a leg hold, or go for his neck and choke him out, because he wouldn’t last much longer like this. Goku had given him an ugly leg sweep, and a really bad punch to his solar plexus that could’ve been worse if he didn’t shift his weight back after impact. Goku lunged for him again, going for another grapple. Which one? Shit, which one! He needed to fake-out. Vegeta shifted his weight, dragging his right leg back to get some distance, but Goku expected it shifting in the opposite direction when he was off-balance. A moment’s opening, and Vegeta was down in a windshield wiper hold.

Panting heavily on the ground with Goku’s face brushing beside his, he said nothing.

“I win,” Goku said turning his head, his nose now pressing into Vegeta’s cheek.

“Well…what are you waiting for?”

He didn’t expect the kiss against his cheek making him freeze. This gave Goku the chance to quickly pin his arms above his head by his wrists. Then Goku shifted, straddling his waist and tugging the front of Vegeta’s gi open to reveal more of his neck and expose his chest by extension. He needed to play this out right unless he wanted to get bitten again. Which he didn’t. Tilting his hips up, he gauged how much Goku weighed, but it got him the reaction he expected.

“Oh? ‘Geta,” Goku was grinning, his teeth sharp, as he leaned down again pressing his face into Vegeta’s neck.

That’s right. Get excited for nothing, ignorant buffoon. Vegeta planted his feet flat on the mat slowly bringing his knees up when Goku pressed a kiss under his jawline, and his breath caught. It was intimate. Too intimate. Another kiss was added, this time with a little flicker of tongue, and Vegeta took a deep breath. He arched his back, pushing their chests together and that allowed his pelvis to shift away. Goku left an open mouthed kiss on his neck this time, causing Vegeta’s breath to stutter, but then the bastard moved to sit more on his knees than on Vegeta’s crotch making a gap between them. All he needed was an arm, and he knew how to get it. Sure, Vegeta wasn’t playing fair, but he was pretty sure he’d seen Goku floating at some points during their fight, so, from his perspective, it evened out.

Vegeta opened his mouth to say something when an embarrassing sound escaped his throat instead. Goku was sucking hard on a scarred patch of skin under his jawline. Okay, that needed to stop right now.

He flexed his wrists in Goku’s hold, “Let me…”

Touch. His face colored. He wasn’t sure if he couldn’t finish the sentence from embarrassment or because he’d never said it, but Goku was still kissing along his neck. A younger version of himself would never rely on these tactics. A younger Vegeta would’ve accepted defeat with dignity and waited for a rematch, but his younger self didn’t know how much those teeth hurt so _fuck_ that guy. Goku’s brain finally registered what Vegeta was implying, because then he only had one arm pinned above his head instead of two. Perfect.

Goku was too stupid to tell him to tap out, so technically speaking the match was still on. He let his back drop onto the mat, and reached his hand up to grab the front of the orange gi. This was one of the few times in his life he was thankful to be short, as he pulled his leg back and around leaving Goku’s leg between his own. Then, in a move that surprised both of them Vegeta managed to turn hard enough that Goku was thrown to the side freeing his other arm. Not wasting another second he shimmied shifted, and forced with all his weight to have Goku in a tight kimura from half guard, the next shift flipped Goku onto his back and allowed Vegeta to sweep him, his head trapped between Vegeta’s thighs and his arm locked in such a way it could break.

“HA! TAP OUT YOU PERVERTED BASTARD,” Vegeta was panting from how fast he’d forced himself to move.

“I imagined getting between yer legs, but this is a surprise,” Goku laughed.

“Tap. Out. Goku,” He growled.

“Nah, go ahead,” Goku said, his head comfortably squished.

“What.”

“You can snap my arm like this right? Go ahead.”

Vegeta paused. He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be serious.

“Have you done it before?”

He had. It was high school with a rematch fight from some asshole whose nickname was Freiza. The first match they had together involved a lot of one-sided trash talk Vegeta couldn’t return because his father was watching. It’d made him sloppy, and he lost in such a pitiful manner, he beat himself up about it for weeks. The rematch they had a year later left Vegeta with a quiet, unsettled rage. Nappa, his coach, told Vegeta he was off before the match. He didn’t remember what he was thinking, but by the time he’d gotten Freiza into the same hold, the referee was too late to break them apart. The silence that followed after the crack burned into his brain. Freiza didn’t make anymore appearances after that, and both his father and coach gave him the worst scolding of his life, but he was torn. His brain wanted to register it as a victory, but the feeling of bone snapping under his palms terrified him.

“Once you break it I’ll be able to get outta this hold. I’ve fought with less before,” Goku went on.

If Vegeta lost his grip on Goku’s arm, which would happen if he broke it, they’d be right back at square one. He wasn’t sure who’s handicap would be worse, Vegeta’s now nonexistent stamina or Goku’s broken arm. Maybe he was bluffing? He started applying more pressure, the muscles in Goku’s arm tightening. It’d be easy compensation for the alley fight. Vegeta could do it. How would Goku react? Would there be a pause followed with a pained groan, or would he scream like Freiza? His fingers dipped tighter into the muscle, heartbeat thumping in his ears. When the muscles in his biceps began to tremble he did it. He let go of him. Goku’s arm dropped back to his side, and Vegeta pulled away standing up.

Maybe if he was a different man, if he was younger or angrier he could’ve snapped Goku’s arm like a chopstick, but… He placed a hand onto his forehead. He was so damn tired. He wasn’t sure if it was age, or empathy, or depression, but he couldn’t do it even if Goku wasn’t, human himself. Which he clearly wasn’t, considering how ready he was for Vegeta to do something awful.

“Vegeta?”

He looked up to see Goku staring. Then the smile came back onto the other man’s face as he dropped into another fighting stance. Sweat made Vegeta’s gi stick to his skin, there were bruises and aches starting to creep along his back and legs from how many times he’d flipped or been flipped into the mat below them. His throat burned, and his fingers ached as he clenched them into his palms. Goku may not be human, but Vegeta was, and he couldn’t do this for another hour.

Sitting down, he crossed his legs in front of him and opened up the front of his gi exposing more of his neck, “You win.”

“Huh? Don’t you wanna fight more?”

“Do you really think I’m stupid? I know damn well you were wearing me down the whole time on purpose,” Vegeta was glaring at him again. It felt familiar, and was better than looking at the floor.

“You did tell me not to hold back,” Goku went over to him, but paused. “Front or back?”

“Do what you want.”

Goku bent down crawling into Vegeta’s space. His hands rested on Vegeta’s knees as he leaned in almost like he would kiss-. Nope. Nuh-uh. Too close. Too intimate!

“I changed my mind. Back.”

Goku blinked at him, and nodded moving to sit behind Vegeta. One hand rested on Vegeta’s hip, and the other went to stroke along the back of his neck where his hairline followed. This wasn’t much better. Get it over with already. Lips pressed against the juncture where his neck met his clavicle. It was softer than the ones Goku had given him earlier.

“Stop playing with your food you idiot.”

Goku’s grin sat on his skin before sharp teeth sunk in paralyzing him. Instead of a choking noise, a long moan left his mouth as he gripped his thighs. His face beet red because where the hell did that come from? The hand on his hip tightened, matching how high strung his muscles felt. A beat passed, but it felt like eternity, until warmth began to spread from his neck down his spine while his heartbeat continued to thud in his ears.

Goku’s lips were suctioned tight to his skin as he began to suck. Vegeta’s body decided react by rag dolling, Goku’s chest supporting his weight. The loss of feeling in his muscles had been delayed the first time, but maybe now was different because he’d done this once already. Goku did say he tried not to double dip or some nonsense like that. Could this be why? A hand stroked his hair, the touch gentle while his brain began to grow foggy. He felt drunk. Off balance. Goku better not leave him like he did last time. Vegeta waited for the haze to follow, but it didn’t come, Goku pulling away to drag his cold tongue along Vegeta’s hot skin.

“God, ‘Geta,” Goku panted against his neck.

He started to take note of things, like how the heat in his body wasn’t as bad as the first time, and how he had an erection for some masochistic reason.

Vegeta felt the hand at his hip start to slip towards his stomach, but his words were jumbled in his head, his breathing ragged, “Sto- sto...”

Goku moved his hand away, settling to wrap both his arms around Vegeta’s waist, “Didn’t want to take too much this time.”

Right. His legs were framed by Goku’s, and there was a weight on top of his head. Well, wasn’t the bastard getting comfortable. He’d smack him if he could lift his arms. Instead, he settled for an angry grunt.

“Hm? What was that ‘Geta?” Goku shifted his chin on Vegeta’s head.

Another angry grunt followed in response.

“I’m not sure what that meant, but I’m gonna guess. Ya already seen my teeth. They’re real sharp, so a muscle relaxant’s needed sometimes. Oh, by the way, my tooth did grow back! It’s a lil sharper than I like, but nothin a nail file can’t fix.”

Vegeta’s head lolled to the other side, a long whine coming from his throat.

“You can fall asleep if ya want. I’ll wake you up in an hour,” Goku waited a second before adding, “Promise I won’t do nothin to ya either.”

The word sleep registered in his brain as a good thing, and his eyelids dropped closed despite his other internal protests. What if Goku bit him again? What if this was a trap? He was at the man’s mercy until he managed to wake up from blood loss, so was it a really good idea? The anxiety of the situation was nothing in comparison to his mind doing the equivalent of holding the shut down button as everything went black.

It was almost like he’d blinked through time. That only a few minutes had passed from closing his eyes and opening them again because he was warm. Not like, the blankets on the bed are the perfect temperature warm, but close to it. His fingers tightened into the fabric under his palm as his shoulder was lightly shaken. Warmth breath blew against his ear, and he moved his head down towards his neck to protect himself.

“Vegeta?” Goku gave his shoulder another gentle push only to get a mumble in return. “It’s been an hour, come on.”

He sneered and pressed his arms against the surface pushing away as he cracked an eye open. His hands were on Goku’s chest, and he swore he hadn’t fallen asleep in such a position. His mouth and throat were dry, the edges of sleep still clutching to him. Bulma’s accusation of his feelings for Goku came at the most inappropriate time since he realized he never exactly stared for long at the man. His face was open. Soft? No, his jawline was slightly blocky, and there wasn’t any baby fat, but his cheeks were filled carefully, and his nose was wide. His eyebrows were half as thick as Vegeta’s, and his wide eyes were a deep brown. When he breathed, Vegeta felt his fingers digging into Goku’s pecs, and, okay, _maybe_ he wasn’t as straight as he thought. Not trusting himself to talk yet, he raised an eyebrow.

“You started shiverin’, so I moved ya. Want me to call a taxi?”

He nodded, moving his hands away and swinging his legs around so he could stand. Vegeta said nothing as he wobbled back to the bench near the door where his bag lied. What could he say? First, he wasn’t sure if he could speak and even if he would there was no conversation to be had. He’d challenged Goku to a fight, and he lost. He’d gotten bit again, something he wanted to avoid by defeating the other man, and his body was going to punish him the next morning for his hubris. He heard Goku talking on the phone, and then say something to him about changing before he was left alone.

By the time the taxi pulled up, Vegeta’s movements and words felt mechanical as he locked up the dojo. Goku was all smiles and teasing, telling him to send a text when he got home, and left once the car door closed. He felt off. Strange. He should be angry. Vegeta waited for the familiar sense of loss to return. He’d been beaten and humiliated by Goku. He was supposed to be angry. He was supposed to be cursing, yelling, screaming, rethinking strategies for when he’d fight the man next and win. Because he’d win next time. He would win next time, and then it’d be fine. Then he could forget Goku and go back to being normal. He could go back to his routine. Get back to his life of ignoring women and men alike, arguing with Bulma about when he’d leave the house next, forcing himself to work past his limits and exercise until his thoughts and anxieties turned into white noise like they always did. That’s what was supposed to happen. Vegeta put his face into his hands, trying to grab onto any emotion he could label but his fingers came up empty. Since when did losing a fight make him feel so hollow inside.


	5. Aren't You Vlad To See Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs) for beta reading this latest chapter uwu

It was movie night. Vegeta hated movie night. It was a once a month event in which Bulma insisted all of her friends share dinner and a movie to catch up. It was required of him, as he was too old to be clubbing often, so she was merciful not to drag him into her bi-weekly trips. He would’ve blocked her number if she made such an attempt anyway. There were entirely too many people standing in the theater lobby as the group crowded around the ticket machines to choose their seats. Bulma, 18, Krillin, Yamcha, Tien, Piccolo, and Chichi. Chichi was the only tolerable one there, so he was glad she had made fast friends with Bulma one day during the start of his early friendship with the blue-haired witch. Tonight’s choice was a horror flick with high reviews according to multiple audiences and critics. At least, that’s what the rotten tomatoes website told him when he checked his phone.

“Vegeta, you chose the aisle seat,” Bulma had her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow, “You’re not thinking of ditching in the middle of the movie again, are you.”

“No Bulma.” His expression revealed nothing. He was. He was definitely going to ditch after chugging his drink. For a bathroom break. If he happened to have to check something in his car, and believe he might’ve left the stove on at home, then he was the only person left to stop his home from burning down. Hypothetically, of course.

She made an “I’m watching you” gesture with her hands as she went back to check their seating, while Tien purchased his own ticket. He rolled his eyes at her antics. Movie night was a waste of money and time. He had a laptop and surround sound at home. There was really no point in him going to the theater anymore unless it was a live show. Yet, here he was, trapped under her tyranny with another embarrassing picture of him saved in her phone. He needed to figure out the password to that thing.

“’Geta?”

Oh no. No no no. He turned his head and there was the familiar brightly colored get-up on none other than Goku. What the hell was he doing here? The last time he’d spoken with the man was the text saying he’d made it home after their fight, and that was two weeks ago. Two weeks for Vegeta to reclaim his rage at being made a fool of, once more, followed up by letting it go through brutal workouts, overtime, and drinking with Peaches. He didn’t let her drink any, but he did laugh at her behavior after he gave her catnip.

“It is you! Hey, you didn’t text me, so I got worried,” Goku had walked over during his internal monologue. “Glad to see you’re doin’ okay.”

“What are you doing here,” Vegeta had his arms crossed over his chest.

“Watchin’ a movie. I was about to buy a-,”

“Ooohh, hello. Vegeta, did you make a new friend on your own?” Bulma had walked back peeking over Vegeta’s shoulder.

“Actually, he was just leaving.”

“No I wasn’t. I was about to buy a ticket to see that new horror movie. The previews looked real good online,” Goku smiled.

“What a coincidence! We’re going to see it too. Do you want to sit with us Mr…?” Bulma sidled up next to him batting her eyelashes.

“Ah, no mister’s needed. It’s just Goku. Nice to meet ya.”

Bulma’s eyes lit up, and she had a knowing grin on her face, “You’re Goku! I’m Bulma. It’s nice to meet you too, how about you sit next to Vegeta.” She pulled Goku down by his large jacket collar and whispered something into his ear.

“Well sure, I can do that,” Goku answered.

“Do what?” Vegeta’s eyes darted from Bulma to Goku and back again. What was she up to now? This situation was awful enough without Goku here.

“Get the snacks,” Bulma made a show of taking Goku’s hand and putting some cash into his palm. “Vegeta, you help him carry it all in.”

“And what’s to stop me from getting a refund and leaving while you’re getting cozy in the recliner chair?”

“….Hey 18! ChiChi! I have more things to show you from the holiday pa-.” She couldn’t speak any further due to Vegeta’s hand covering her mouth.

“Fine. I get it. Shut up.” Slowly, he removed his hand and went back to crossing his arms over his chest. “Delete those pictures.”

“I already did. This one’s a video.”

Goku giggled, “Wow, I like her ‘Geta.”

What kind of grown ass man giggled? Wait a minute. How old was Goku? He never thought to ask, but since the man was a vampire, Vegeta needed to know. He didn’t say anything further, watching Bulma take him by the arm to the ticket machine. He never thought movie night could get worse, but as he watched Bulma introduce Goku to all her friends, he knew he had to make his escape during the movie. He wasn’t about to have dinner with the man.

Goku returned to him with even more cash in hand, and Bulma’s ticket as they had switched, “Can ya carry the drinks?”

“Hmph.”

“Sounds like a yes ta me,” He said unphased by Vegeta’s cold shoulder.

He wasn’t about to be baited into another conversation. Especially since he knew what game Goku played at. They got the snacks and entered the theater as the last preview ended. Goku’s arms were full, as well as his pockets. Guess that ridiculously large jacket was good for something. Vegeta had a three stack of drinks cradled in one hand with straws and napkins. He felt like a damn waiter after he sat down, passing the drinks down the row.

The one thing he did appreciate about movie night, despite the company, was that everyone had to shut the fuck up for two hours. His extra-large ginger ale sat in the holder, and he chanced a glance at Goku. The oaf had gotten the largest bucket of popcorn available, the snack sitting on the tray holder with a giant soft pretzel, two boxes of candy, chicken tenders, fries, a hot dog, and an extra-large cola. As disgusting as it was, Vegeta was relieved at seeing all the food. This meant the other man wasn’t going to join Bulma’s friends with dinner. He caught the way Chichi was eyeing Goku while they passed down snacks, and he’d be damned if she was a victim to the bastard’s stupid way of drinking.

He’d yawned, having finished his drink thirty minutes in, and checked his watch. The movie was all right. It dragged at scenes that were supposed to be touching, and rushed through more of the more suspenseful moments, but he didn’t dislike it. An hour passed when the possessed doctor tossed the main woman into a waste bin of old needles. Time for a bathroom break. He prepared to get up when a food tray swung over into his lap.

“Sorry ‘Geta, can ya hold this? I gotta go to the bathroom,” Goku whispered as he stood up.

And just like that, his plan crumbled in front of his eyes. He couldn’t go with Goku to the bathroom because Bulma would take it the wrong way, and Goku might ask him where he was going to rope him into another conversation. He couldn’t go after Goku either, since the woman will see right through him, and that video would be leaked into the group chat afterwards. Vegeta watched Goku’s backside retreat down the stairs and around the corner, his fists clenched on the armrests. Damn him. Damn him to hell.

Goku didn’t come back until five minutes later, the hospital scene having changed to an exorcism attempt. A muttered thanks was sent his way before the tray was removed. He could take the risk of waiting another ten minutes before going to the bathroom, but the screen from the theater got bright  in ways he couldn’t time from the scene changes. He’d get caught in seconds. That hospital scene had been his only opportunity for escape, and Goku stole it.

Vegeta spent the rest of the movie quietly seething while Goku finished his snacks. They didn’t leave until the credits finished rolling, and he was flanked with Goku on one side and Bulma on the other once they made it back to the lobby.

“That was crazy! I can’t believe they’d do that with the kid,” Krillin said.

“If you paid attention at the beginning, you would’ve noticed the unnatural color his eyes shifted to,” 18 replied.

“The moment was a second long. You’d have to have seen the movie before to notice that,” Yamcha narrowed his eyes at her.

18 smirked at him, “What are you implying?”

Yamcha went on with Tien asking her questions about the “obvious” movie hints while Bulma made her move.

“So, Goku, do you want to join us for dinner?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Vegeta answered.

“I’d love to. Where we headed?”

“Are you serious? You ate half the menu during the movie. I doubt you could eat anything else,” Vegeta put his foot down, stopping before they got to the entrance.

“Aw ‘Geta, you know I can eat a lot more than that,” Goku’s expression was innocent but that glint in his eye made Vegeta’s face color.

Bulma leaned down letting her chin rest on Vegeta’s shoulder, “How do you feel about pasta? We’re going to Baron’s.”

“I haven’t been there before, could ya give me the address?”

“Sure. Do you have a gps in your car?”

“I don’t have a car,” Goku pulled out his phone in a bright orange and blue case.

Vegeta was reminded of his gi from their match, and saw the kanji symbol on the back. Son Goku? He got a custom made phone case? How much money did he have?

“How’d you get here then? Do you live nearby?” Bulma blinked at him.

“I walked, and you could say that.”

Vegeta remembered Goku blinking out of existence at the café. Oh yeah. He _walked_ all right.

She gasped, “You can’t walk there! Vegeta-.”

He turned his head so his nose pressed into her cheek, and with the angriest glare he could muster hissed, “No.”

Rolling her eyes, she stood up straight, “Okay Goku, you’re riding with me.”

“I wouldn’t wanna be any trouble,” Goku rubbed the back of his neck.

“No trouble at all. It’s a bit of a drive from here, so walking would be too much. Come on, we can chat on the way there,” Bulma said, their group now walking into the parking lot.

Good riddance. He zoned out the rest of the ongoing conversations, going to his own car. It wasn’t until he’d stuck the key in the ignition that he’d realize what he’d done. He’d let Goku in the same car with Bulma for a thirty minute drive. Now he couldn’t “get lost” on the way to the restaurant because who knows what information about him they’d be exchanging. Damn it! Why did his foresight turn to shit whenever Goku was around? He wouldn’t tell Bulma that he was a vampire would he? He wouldn’t try to bite her would he? Vegeta didn’t know Goku that well at all, and this back and forth game they were playing revealed nothing important or personal. No, Goku was a demon, but he was devious. He wouldn’t just bite her when she was driving and leave her in her car after being introduced to everyone. All he could think of was- oh no.

The pictures. The videos. The gossip. Bulma wasn’t the type to hold back, and Goku already said he liked her. Plus, she knew that Goku’s phone number and this Goku were the same one. He was going to start hyperventilating. He needed to get himself under control before they parked at the restaurant. He went to therapy for a reason! Turning up his radio, he thanked kami he had tinted windows and started to scream.

He’d stopped a few minutes before pulling into the crowded parking lot feeling somewhat better. His throat was somewhat raw, but between the third and the fifth song he remembered that if he couldn’t control the situation then that was that. Around the seventh song, he’d made his plan for revenge in case anything too personal had been revealed. Vegeta stepped out of the car, locking it and started walking towards the group gathering at the entrance.

“Nice to see you didn’t get lost this time,” 18 said.

He ignored her, even as Goku asked how that’d be possible, and walked inside. They didn’t have to wait long, the wait staff pushing several of the small square tables together, the red tablecloths drooping low enough to touch the floor. Each with a short lit candle next to a thin vase with a single white flower inside. They were handed menus, Vegeta passing his off, having made a quick decision, and watched the others chatting with Goku as he unlocked his phone. The bastard had gotten comfortable rather quickly, laughing at Yamcha and Krillen’s shitty jokes, and getting the more stoic Picollo to crack a smile on occasion. To his chagrin, Chichi began to subtly flirt with Goku, who returned it with light teasing that made her cheeks tint pink.

Vegeta was more worried about her being a victim than becoming a lover, but he ignored it. It’s not like he was jealous, and he wasn’t gay. Getting a boner after being bitten was due to the adrenaline, and how fast his blood had been pumping after a fight. Combine that with exhaustion, and who knows what kind of bodily reactions someone could have. He didn’t care that Goku hadn’t looked at him once since they sat down. Didn’t bother Vegeta that after their menus were taken with their orders, he was stuck at dinner looking at his phone ignoring others while being ignored. Well, not ignored. Someone would try to pull him into the conversation at times, but he would answer with a grunt, scrolling through his mail or anything else. It was only a matter of time when Bulma would stop annoying him with these outings and ‘let him rot’. Vegeta wouldn’t feel any qualms of never seeing these people again except by accident. The less he talked with them, the better off things would be for when the inevitability occurred.

Glaring at his phone screen, he bit the inside of his lip as he traced along the screen searching vampire facts. He was glad for the seating arrangement, Bulma, Krillin, Goku, and Chichi on one side, leaving him to sit next 18 while the others remained out of talking range. 18 was the type to listen and choose her words carefully, so he didn’t have to think hard about being too quiet.

“Y’all mind if I take my jacket off?” Goku’s hands had started for the zipper.

“Of course not, I’m surprised you’re wearing one. It’s been too hot outside,” Yamcha replied.

“I get cold kinda easy.”

There was a small gasp after the jacket came off, prompting Vegeta to look up. Goku was wearing a bright yellow t-shirt that was clinging too him a bit too much. What was the deal?

Yamcha’s eyes paused on Goku’s arms, the sleeves stretched taut around his biceps, “Dude, you’re huge. What do you _do_?”

“Lotsa martial arts, weight liftin, track runnin, just kinda all around stuff,” Goku noticed Chichi’s pink cheeks and smiled at her, flexing his arm, “Ya can touch it if ya want.”

Chichi’s face turned red before she gently placed a hand on his arm. Grinning, he flexed again making her snatch her hand back as if she were caught doing something inappropriate. Vegeta snorted turning to look back at his phone when he caught Bulma’s expression. She had both elbows on the table, her face cradled in her hands, and the smuggest grin on her dark red lips. Her eyes darted down towards his phone before resuming their staring contest. What was she up to? He looked down seeing a message from her and opened it.

Blue Witch: no wonder you weren’t interested in me, we have the same taste in men

His face colored as he looked at her and she raised an her eyebrow. Vegeta mouthed the word “no”. One of her hands went under the table, sending another text which popped onto his screen.

Blue Witch: youre def a tiddy man, his are bigger than mine!

Vegeta blushed, recalling how soft those pecs were under his palm after their fight, and chanced another glance to see her waggling her eyebrows. He mouthed the word “stop” at her, and thanked every deity out there when their food came.

This part of the night was the easiest. He could stuff his mouth with bread, salad, wine, or pasta to look as though he was too busy to talk. It was the period after the plates where gone that was the most difficult. Wine did nothing for him, but drinking sure made everyone else more eager to get him to talk.

“Hey Goku, how about you arm wrestle Piccolo here?” Yamcha said.

He was a lightweight, and Vegeta knew he always drank a few glasses more than he should.

“I could, but why would I do that?”

Yamcha held up a finger and wagged it back and forth, “Oh, you don’t know? He’s the national arm wrestling champion.”

“Wait, yer that Piccolo? Wow! It’s real nice ta meet ya, I’m a big fan,” Goku’s face lit up as he took Piccolo’s hand and shook it with both of his own.

Piccolo cleared his throat, “Yes, well, Yamcha’s being modest here considering he’s the regional kickboxing belt holder.”

Goku gasped placing a hand over his mouth, “Oh my god. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Then does that mean you’re Tien, the MMA fighter who held the heavyweight international championship for the last few years before retiring?”

Tien smiled and nodded.

Goku’s eyes were wide with awe, unsure about who’s hand to shake first, he placed his hands on the table turning to shout, “’Geta, you didn’t tell me you had so many celebrity friends!”

“I don’t,” Vegeta sneered into his glass.

“Don’t mind him,” Krillin waved a hand in apology.

“Yeah, he always has a stick up his ass,” 18 added.

Vegeta didn’t dignify that comment with a response, and his phone lit up with another message. The conversation continued, Goku excitedly chatting with the three at the other end of the table. How happy he looked listening to them talk about past fights made Vegeta sick. He gave Bulma a look, muttering about the bathroom, as he got up from the table. The restaurant was too small to have multiple stalls, so it was a single, nicely decorated, bathroom he could lock.

His phone was set on the marble sink counter while he pissed. At first, it was interesting meeting Bulma’s friends. All the men were martial artists like him, which made him understand why Bulma singled him out at the gym. Her taste in friends was the same as her taste in men it appeared. Then he realized they weren’t like him at all. They could pursue their dreams. They got to experience new challenges, stronger opponents, work and train constantly to get better. While they were in the gym, Vegeta was trapped behind a desk forty hours a week. When they were in the ring, he was stuck at home binge watching another series on hulu. They got to do all the things his father discouraged him from pursuing, and it turned the idea of being friends with them sour, so he kept his distance.

Vegeta washed his hands seeing two more messages from Bulma. She’d long stopped being an option for him to pretend he was normal. His reflection in the mirror shocked him. There were faint circles under his eyes, and it looked as though someone sucked all the passion out of his gaze. He remembered looking in the mirror cocky, angry, or self-assured of his decisions. Even the ugly ones. Now he just looked sad. He’d lost so many opportunities trying to prove he wasn’t a child, that he could handle his own anger, that he could be responsible, and, maybe, he could make his father proud of him. His shoulders sagged as he dried his hands. When did the path with the most resistance change into the one with the least? He unlocked his phone looking at his messages.

Blue Witch: bet you want Goku to stick something else up your ass ;)  
Blue Witch: why is he so strong??? omg??  
Blue Witch: he just beat yamcha and tien, yamcha looks like hes about to cry lol

Goku. The thought of the vampire made him glare. That moronic, perverted, overpowered, smartassed, shitty, bastard. He’d come barreling into Vegeta’s life making him stumble with his thoughts and feelings. Making him second guess himself, and how dare he? How dare he! Biting him, drinking from him, cuddling him as if they were lovers and more, all with that ridiculously sharp smile on his face. Vegeta knew he couldn’t change the past, but he’d endured enough self-pity the past couple months, and he was done. Fuck feeling sorry for himself, and fuck Goku.

He returned to the table in time to see Piccolo and Goku still arm wrestling, both looking like they were making an effort, but Vegeta knew the vampire was faking it. Piccolo’s arm was halfway towards the table on his side, and Goku let out a grunt before pressing Piccolo’s hand down the rest of the way.

“Holy shit,” Krillin said.

“Wow, you guys are really good,” Goku panted looking between the three.

Vegeta grabbed the back of the chair Piccolo sat in, “Move.”

“You’re not serious right? This guy’s a monster,” Yamcha said holding his reddened hand.

“We couldn’t get his hand to move an inch, and you’re out of practice. What makes you think you can beat him?” Tien said.

Piccolo didn’t say anything, letting Vegeta take his spot, as Vegeta placed his elbow on the table, his hand open.

“Sorry, could we switch hands? This one’s a lil tired,” Goku scratched his cheek.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Vegeta switched, “I’m ambidextrous.”

“No kiddin? Me too!” Goku wrapped his hand around Vegeta’s and waited. He gave Vegeta another smile, one that said ‘you know what’ll happen if you lose, right’? Or maybe he was imagining the implication.

Chichi placed her hands over both of theirs, “3, 2, 1, start,” she let go.

Goku’s arm wasn’t budging in the slightest. Vegeta’s fingers digging into the back of the other’s palm. He wasn’t going to beat him with strength, or endurance. He knew that. His body was close to the table, and the cloth covering it was long enough to hide his legs under. Slipping off a shoe, he pressed the toes of his socked foot against Goku’s ankle. Goku’s eyes widened, and Vegeta found he could move his arm an inch in his favor. Recovering, Goku got the inch back, his brows furrowing down as he focused. Not going to work this time. Vegeta was glad the blush on his face would be claimed for exertion and not embarrassment as they went on.

Soon he figured out a pattern, slow strokes along Goku’s calf would get him a couple inches in his favor, and his foot exploring a little higher would let him keep the advantage. Goku’s arm was halfway down by the time his foot began to inch past his knee. The whole table had gotten quiet staring at the two as they glared at each other. He was doing two things at once, and it seemed like Goku was waiting for him to adjust the tension in his arm. To give him an opportunity and gain back all the traction he’d lost. Too bad Vegeta hated losing. His next action was going to give him some thoughts depending on the result as he slid his foot towards the inside of Goku’s thigh and pushed against the inseam. Goku let out sound between his teeth as the back of his hand met the table. Victory.

 Vegeta removed his hand from the vampire’s grip, quickly slipping his shoe back on and leaning back into the seat, “Now who’s out of practice.”

“No way! NO WAY. He let you win!” Yamcha said.

Goku pulled his arm back, flexing his fingers, his gaze distant before they zoned in on Vegeta. He licked his lips saying, “Nah, he won that one fair and square. Right, ‘Geta?”

Vegeta crossed his arms under his chest, not backing down. He knew that look. The vampire got it in his eyes during their fight in the alley, over the café table, and when he had Vegeta pinned to the mat. The knowing spark in those dark brown eyes with a peak of a fang between his smiling lips.

Goku was hungry.


	6. An Offer You Count Refuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you may be wondering, why did the chapter count jump from 7 to 9? because i have [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs) as a beta(thank you for betaing this), hes an enabling bastard, and im writing chapter 8 as we speak, dont worry

The rest of dinner passed without incident, Goku putting his jacket back on at the end of the night. The vampire said he’d called a taxi and would wait, much to Bulma’s protests. Said protests were quieted when Vegeta offered to wait with him, leaving them alone on the bench in front of the closing restaurant.

“So, do ya feel up everybody under the table, or am I special?”

“You would’ve won had I not,” Vegeta said, his response lacking any bite. All he could think about was how his foot hadn’t pressed into thigh muscle.

“Was winnin that important?”

Now was an awful time to remember that his shoe size was 26 centimeters as he tapped his foot against the ground, “I can’t overpower you with my level of strength, so I have to strategize appropriately.”

“That why yer waitin here even though ya know I didn’t call a taxi?”

“Anyone from the window could watch you vanish. You need to be more careful.” How was Vegeta supposed to know which pant leg Goku tucked it in anyway? It’s not like there was a labeling system. It meant nothing.

“I didn’t think ya cared ‘Geta.”

“I don’t. This is a regular spot we go to, and if you intend on making yourself a nuisance, it’s best you’re as inconspicuous as possible.” Don’t think about the monster in Goku’s pants. He wasn’t even hard and-.

“Vegeta.”

He looked up since that was the first time Goku used his full name in a while, “What.”

“Ya wanna see it?”

“Excuse me.”

“Yer thinkin’ about it right? Where your foot went under the table.”

Vegeta stood up, “I’m doing no such thing!”

“If ya say so,” Goku stood up as well with a shrug. “I’ll just head around the corner then and vanish. Don’t wanna keep ya too late.”

Good riddance. What kind of ridiculous comment was that anyway? Did he want to see Goku’s cock? No. Absolutely not. Besides, even if he was gay, which he wasn’t, he wouldn’t bother debasing himself going along with Goku’s ideas again. He’d suffered enough humiliation from the vampire, and taking the offer would put them both in a precarious position. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. What was he supposed to do after he saw it anyway? Say thank you, and send Goku home? Talk about a stupid idea. The bastard was full of stupid ideas. Vegeta thought about how Goku made him suffer through an evening of socializing, as the idiot cut through the parking lot. Then he remembered his internal monologue from the restroom.

Taking out his keys, he turned off his car alarm and unlocked the door making Goku jump at the sound. He smiled at that, “Get in the car, and don’t say anything.”

“Oh man, we goin to your place?”

“I said don’t say anything,” Vegeta walked by him and opened the driver’s side.

“But we ain’t in the car yet ‘Geta,” Goku opened the opposing door.

“Stop being insufferable. You’ll make me change my mind.”

Goku made a show of zipping his lips closed and hopped inside, “You sure it’s safe for you to drive?”

“Yes. I have a meat shield in the passenger’s seat if something goes wrong,” He said buckling himself in.

“That another way ta say ya want me on top of ya?”

Vegeta threw the car in reverse, slamming on the gas, sending Goku’s forehead against the dashboard when he came to a stop.

“OW.”

“Put on your seatbelt.”

“You’re so mean,” Goku rubbed the red spot on his forehead as he clicked the seatbelt into place.

He didn’t respond to that, focusing on driving. It was difficult with Goku fiddling with the radio until he settled on a CD Bulma left behind. He was going to tell him to turn it off, but the music was keeping the other man quiet, so he endured. There was a potential cop scare at a stop sign, but Vegeta stopped fully before passing the line, keeping the encounter uneventful. By the time they got to his doorstep, he realized how out of depth he was. He’d never brought anyone home. Usually Bulma or her friends came over as they pleased, and he’d chase them out after a few hours, so this was new territory.

How long was Goku supposed to stay over? What were they supposed to do after? Make conversation? Hell, what were they supposed to do during? He’d rarely indulged in porn except for the occasional magazine in school. He knew where the dick went with men, but who would be sticking what where? Would they make it that far?

Nervous, he unlocked the door and stepped inside only to see Goku hovering outside, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Goku shrugged.

“Come in here before I shut the door on you.”

Smiling, Goku stepped over the threshold closing the door behind him, “Nice place.”

Vegeta slipped off his shoes and saw no sign of his cat. Hopefully, she was asleep and didn’t sneak her way into the bathroom again. Something loomed over him, pressing into his back, and Vegeta froze halfway in the living room.

“Give me some space.”

“Oops, sorry,” Goku took a couple steps back as the lights went on. “I’m used to things startin pretty fast.”

“…I haven’t done this before.”

“Never?”

“No.”

Goku paused and walked around so he could read Vegeta’s expression, “Like with a man or-?”

“With anyone, but go ahead and keep rubbing it in. You’re doing a wonderful job giving me an excuse to kick you out.”

“Hmm,” He scratched his chin, “Okay, where’s your bedroom?”

“Follow me,” Vegeta couldn’t disperse the awkwardness of it all.

His movements were mechanical as he went upstairs. He was really doing this. With Goku. Either his standards had dropped through the earth’s core, or Bulma was right in calling him stupid. His bedroom was in order, the bed made, not a single pair of dirty pants on the floor, and an empty cup of water sitting on his bedside table. A rustle of fabric sounded from behind him making his apprehension grow. He didn’t even have condoms! What was he supposed to be doing? A hand on his shoulder turned him around, and he was eye to skin with a very wide chest, littered with faint scars, and, perhaps, he might be a little inclined to the same sex.

“You should take off yer shirt too,” Goku began to unbutton his top.

While his knuckles brushed Vegeta’s chest, Vegeta decided to take in an eyeful. Goku had stripped down to his underwear, which was tight and stopped around his mid-thighs. Wide chest, toned stomach, a thick line of pubic hair, and holy fuck. He thanked every diety Goku had no fashion sense to wear fitted clothing because he wasn’t sure how he’d react seeing an outline of that during their spar. How would that fit in a woman no less a man? Goku pulled down Vegeta’s shirt bringing his attention back to what was happening.

“Oh wow, where’d ya get this one from?” Goku pointed to the large star shaped scar that sat near the bottom of his pec.

“I got shot.”

“I’m sorry what.”

“I got shot, and was dead for 5 minutes.” Vegeta pulled the shirt off his arms letting it fall to the floor.

“Okay, let’s talk about a different one. This one?” He pointed to a crescent shaped scar near his waist.

“Stab wound.”

“This one?”

“Another stab wound.”

Goku’s brow furrowed, growing frustrated, pointing to a third one, “This one?”

“Third stab wound.”

“You let a guy stab ya three times?”

“Those were three different fights.”

“What do you do?” Goku’s hands went down to Vegeta’s belt undoing the clasp.

“I handle multi-million dollar insurance fraud cases.”

“Wow, those people really want their money if you’re gettin shot and stabbed,” He said as the belt clinked to the floor.

“What do you do?”

“Recently? Hm,” Goku worked Vegeta’s zipper down, “Construction work contract just finished up. I’ve been doin pole dancin on the side, but right now I moderate a knittin club.”

“You’re a vampire…who knits and pole dances?”

Goku smiled, hooking his thumbs into Vegeta’s waistband, “I’ve been alive for a real long time, and it can get borin. Might as well learn as many skills as I can.”

“How old are you?” Down his pants went.

“Uh siiixx…hundred…thirty-three? I think.”

“I’m going to say you’re 33 for my own sanity,” Vegeta placed a hand on his forehead, trying to connect the conversation to what was happening.

“Works for me.”

Cool lips pressed against Vegeta’s, startling him. The kiss was brief, Goku pulling away to place his hands on Vegeta’s shoulders, leading him back until his legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Been wantin ta kiss ya since I saw ya,” Goku leaned in close, his nose slanted beside Vegeta’s.

Vegeta licked his lips, “You kissed me during our spar.”

“Yeah, but that didn’t count,” he pecked his lips again. “How do ya wanna do this?”

“How would I know. What part of I’ve never done this before is so hard to understand?”

“Right, sorry.”

Vegeta was shoved so he fell back onto the bed. He didn’t have time to recover from the shock as Goku climbed over him to straddle his hips, and he was kissed again. This one was more urgent, Vegeta letting out a grunt as he planted his hands on the mattress to push himself back. Goku followed him, his thick thighs framing Vegeta’s hips while he flicked his tongue against the seam of his lips. Goosebumps blossomed on his skin as cold hands stroked down from his shoulders to his chest, two thumbs stopping to circle his nipples. Vegeta jerked at the touch, his hands going to frame Goku’s waist for something sturdier to hold onto.

Goku worked his nipples until they were hard making him squirm under the touch. He brought his hands up to frame Vegeta’s neck, his palms cradling under his jaw. He pinched behind Vegeta’s ear making him gasp, so he could delve his tongue inside. Goku’s hands felt warmer with every touch, but his tongue was cold entering his mouth. Which felt kind of gross. Vegeta wasn’t sure if he liked another person’s tongue in his mouth. Didn’t help that it was long too, and kind of slimy. Goku pulled away, their noses bumping as he pressed his ass against Vegeta’s dick.

“Oh.” All right, Vegeta might be a little gay.

Goku smiled, repeating the action and went back to kissing him. Maybe he could get used to the kissing if the grinding came with it. Vegeta’s hand went from Goku’s waist to his hip, his other hand sliding down to cup a round, ass cheek. The touch encouraged Goku to keep dry humping his ass into Vegeta’s crotch. That felt nice. Really nice. The tongue in his mouth was warmer and still strange, but he definitely liked how plush Goku was back there. What was he supposed to do with his hands anyway? Should he just keep holding onto Goku? Vegeta’s nipples were being played with again, pinched and rolled under warm, calloused thumbs, and the sensation was doing strange things to his dick. He didn’t know if it felt good, but he didn’t want the feeling to stop either. Would it be weird to return the favor? That’d probably look weird if he was playing with Goku’s chest at the same time his was being played with.

Maybe he should…the hand on Goku’s hip dipped in towards his thigh, his fingers grazing the concealed cock. Goku pulled out of the kiss, licking Vegeta’s lips once more before he started kissing along his jawline.

“Don’t you fucking bite me,” Vegeta pressed his palm into Goku’s cock.

“Can’t suck yer dick if you’re half-conscious.”

That shut him up. Goku’s tongue swirled along his jugular to tease until he started sucking on patches of skin under his jawline. All of sudden, Goku was sliding down, their chests touching along the way, and although he was heavy, the weight was comfortable. Vegeta moved his hands to rest on the small of Goku’s back, turning his head to expose more of his neck. This was easier than he thought it’d be. As long as he focused on Goku’s mouth, he could-. Goku’s thumbs tucked into his underwear’s waistband. Wait, hold on.

“Lift up,” Goku kissed the words against his clavicle.

Vegeta took his hands off Goku, placing them onto the sheets following the command. It was easier being told what to do than trying to fumble around himself. Goku kissed down to his chest as he pulled the boxers down, some more maneuvering necessary before he tossed them. Vegeta’s erection bobbed in the free air for one moment, and was squished along Goku’s stomach in the next. The vampire swirled his tongue around Vegeta’s nipple, giving it a hard suck that made him shout. Embarrassed, he covered his mouth looking at anywhere but Goku’s face.

Goku laved his tongue along his nipple, “Didn’t expect that.”

“Shut. Up.”

He could feel Goku’s smile as he continued kissing his way down. The cocky bastard. When two hands gripped his hips, he expected to be man-handled, not for the fingers to start tickling him while Goku blew a raspberry on his stomach. Vegeta couldn’t help the burst of laughter that came out as his hands shot up to grab Goku’s hair. Lifting a leg, Vegeta started kicking his heel into Goku’s shoulder to get him to stop.

“I knew you were ticklish,” Goku lifted his head with a grin on his face.

“What the hell is wrong with you!”

“You were gettin all tense,” He scooted down lower until he was face to cock with Vegeta’s dick, “Also needed ya to spread yer legs.”

Vegeta opened his mouth to retort, but realized, with how quickly Goku was shifting his leg so the back of his knee sat on a scarred shoulder, that he’d been played again. The vampire pressed a kiss to the tip of Vegeta’s cock and dragged his tongue from root to tip..

“Shit,” Vegeta’s hands tightened in Goku’s hair.

Taking him in hand, Goku kissed along the side of his cock and took the tip between his lips giving an experimental suck. Vegeta jerked at the sensation. This was extremely different than using his hand. The inside of his mouth felt warmer than while they were kissing as he took Vegeta deeper down his throat until his nose touched curly, pubic hair.

“Ooh that’s,” Vegeta couldn’t finish the sentence.

It was a lot. He swallowed the spit that built up in his throat, while Goku began to pull up halfway to slowly take Vegeta’s cock back into his mouth. His lips were suctioned tight around the hot flesh, and Vegeta was trying his best not to cum too soon. His heel dug into Goku’s shoulder blade when the bastard began bobbing his head faster.

“Fuck,” Vegeta kept one hand in Goku’s hair, moving the other to cover his mouth.

A small grunt came from Goku mixed in with the slurping sounds, as spit escaped his lips. The noise disgusted Vegeta, but he was getting close. His heartbeat picked up, and he moaned low in his throat. The brief press of teeth which was shielded by a slick tongue snapped him back to his senses. Goku’s mouth was on his dick, which currently needed a lot of blood to stay erect. Was he going to…?

“Don’t you fucking bite my dick!”

Goku pulled off, and with a smile, his teeth grew longer and sharper as he waggled the tip of his tongue into the slit of Vegeta’s cock. Vegeta let out a choked moan. Moving Vegeta’s legs further apart, Goku took his balls in one hand and his cock in the other, retracting his teeth to give the head another hard suck. At the same time, he pressed his finger into Vegeta’s taint spurring another loud moan. Vegeta shuddered as he came, his thigh trembling on Goku’s shoulder with the suddenness of it all.

Panting in bed, Vegeta let his hand fall from Goku’s hair.

“That was fast,” Goku sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fuck you.”

“Got any condoms?”

“That wasn’t an invitation,” Vegeta snarled.

Goku crawled up the bed so he could lie next to Vegeta, “You didn’t even see mine yet.”

“I’ll get there. Let me recover.”

“You got it. Where’s the bathroom?”

“We passed it by on the way up here. Go down the hall, and it’s on the right before the stairs.”

“Thank ya kindly.” Goku kissed his cheek.

Vegeta watched his clothed ass as he left. He didn’t know how to feel right then. He couldn’t say he was straight after this. Getting a blowjob from Goku felt good, and he wouldn’t mind doing it again. As many times as possible if his schedule allowed it. Groaning, he got himself closer to the headboard so he could rest his back into his pillows.

Well, he can’t say he’s straight now with thoughts like that, but this time there was no anger with the idea. There wasn’t relief, but instead a calmness that came with the realization. To think he was figuring this out at 37. Maybe he was straight, and this was a mid-life crisis? Maybe that’s why he’d taken Goku home after becoming so obsessed with the man? No, that couldn’t be it. He would’ve hooked up with Bulma as soon as they’d met were that the case. He was definitely gay. Huh.

“I’m gay,” he muttered. He waited a moment. The world didn’t collapse. No one was coming in to tell him otherwise. With more confidence, he said, “I’m gay.”

Still nothing from the outside, but listening to himself say those words made him feel better. He’d unpack what else he was feeling later.

“You have a cat!” Goku stood in the doorway, Peaches cradled in his arms like a baby.

She purred against Goku’s chest as she rubbed her face into his pecs.

“You cheating whore, how dare you.”

Peaches ignored him, batting her paws at Goku’s chest while he walked over to sit on the bed. “Ya talkin ta me or the cat?”

“Her name is Peaches.”

Goku hummed in acknowledgement scooting up onto the bed until he was sitting next to Vegeta. Peaches stretched out in Goku’s arms, her paws brushing Vegeta’s arm as she opened her mouth to let out a wide yawn. They sat together in silence, Goku rubbing Peaches’ belly, and Vegeta trying to figure out his next move. The whole scenario was disturbingly domestic. Was this normal? Is it because he was getting older and had no experience? When and why did this stop being sexy? They were supposed to be all over each other. He stole a glance at Goku’s crotch. It wouldn’t fit in his mouth, but he could try something else.

“Put my cat down, and take off your briefs.”

“Okay, but I got cat hair on me.”

Vegeta reached over to his bedside drawer and pulled out a lint roller. He didn’t see where Peaches had gone, but he saw Goku open his mouth so he said, “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

The vampire bit his bottom lip, his smile barely held back while Vegeta got the cat hair off. When he was finished, he set the lint roller aside feeling stupid, and, kami, this night was turning out to be a lot less sexy than he was panicking about earlier. He should change that. He grabbed Goku’s waistband and pulled his underwear down revealing his soft cock. Holy fuck. All right. He didn’t need to over think this. It was just a dick. He gave himself handjobs. This was the same thing. Vegeta placed his hand around the base and began to stroke him slow from root to tip.

Goku shifted his hips, but didn’t make any other sounds. Vegeta would catch his eyes on occasion, but he tried to stay looking at the cock in his hand since it was easier than staring in Goku’s dark eyes. Vegeta cleared his throat, his face colored with a blush while he licked his palm. Don’t over think it. He went back to stroking Goku, the motion smoother now as the vampire’s cock began to swell. Was this good? He could feel Goku staring hard at him now, but he didn’t want to make eye contact yet.  Vegeta felt a kiss against his forehead, and then against his eyebrow.

“Got any lube?” Goku’s hand moved to rest along Vegeta’s neck.

“No.”

“Could ya lick your hand again?”

He gathered spit in his mouth, removing his hand to lick his palm wet, and resumed stroking Goku’s now hard cock. A bit of pre cum started to pearl at the tip. He chanced a glance up to see Goku’s partially closed eyes, and a small smile on his face. Then he couldn’t look away as Goku leaned forward to kiss his lips. Vegeta returned it, picking up the speed at which he stroked.

“Everything you do is always cute ‘Geta,” He kissed the words on Vegeta’s lips.

“I’m not cute.”

“Yer not?”

Vegeta dug his nose into Goku’s cheek glaring at him, “Don’t make a fool out of me.”

“Can I try somethin then?”

“Fine.”

Vegeta didn’t miss the glint in Goku’s eyes when he found his hand removed. He wondered where the vampire was going with it when he was man handled to sit up in bed. Grabbing Vegeta’s wrists, Goku made him hold onto the top of the headboard and stand on his knees. He made sure Vegeta’s thighs were touching, his fingers rubbing along the dips of muscle before wrapping his arm around the tapered waist. A beat passed and Vegeta tensed at the feeling of a slick cock pushing between his thighs, under his cock.

With that, Goku gripped Vegeta’s hips and started to thrust. The slick sounds and Goku’s pelvis slapping against his ass made him hang his head, his face growing warm. Goku’s cock was thick and hot catching under his balls with each pull. This was different. Convenient in a way that they didn’t need a condom, but Vegeta still felt like he was getting violated. In a good way. Even if he did have condoms, he didn’t think he’d be ready for anal sex this soon. Goku began panting in his ear, and suffice to say he liked it. He was making Goku feel good, and the familiar confidence he wore came back. That’s right Goku. The bastard wouldn’t be feeling this great if it weren’t for Vegeta. He then thought about how this was a ridiculous way to take victories, but he also felt Goku up under the table to win an arm wrestling match so fuck it. He was winning, and it was awesome. Vegeta was a little shocked seeing himself start to grow hard again from the friction but debated if he was supposed to do anything. Goku kissed behind his ear and down his hairline causing him to shiver as a moan came from his throat.

As his thrusting picked up, Goku dug his hand into Vegeta’s hair, pulling his head back to mash their lips together. The fingers of his other hand dug into Vegeta’s hip, and he slid his tongue into Vegeta’s mouth. Sweat started to build between his thighs, as he clenched the muscles around Goku’s cock earning him a stuttered moan. He repeated the action, precum mixing with the spit and sweat sliding down his thighs. That was a nasty thought. Don’t think about that.

Vegeta pulled his head out of Goku’s hand breaking the kiss, “For a guy that never shuts up, you’re being pretty quiet about this.”

“Ya want me ta be loud?” Goku was panting against his lips, “Aaahh, ‘Geta~, ooohh, ‘Geta, you’re so good, your thighs are so hot!”

“I get it.”

“I could, ahn, dirty talk.”

“Don’t.”

Goku mouthed along the sweaty skin of his neck, “Do ya like this? My cock messing up your thighs? Bet ya wish this was in yer ass don’t you? Are ya imaginin it?”

“Cut it out,” Vegeta’s face grew hot and he looked away.

“You do like dirty talk,” Goku nipped his ear.

“Go back to being silent!”

Vegeta reached down to palm himself, ignoring Goku’s smile pressing into his jugular. His breathing picked up, Goku’s pelvis slapping harder against his ass nearly pushing him into the pillows. He was starting to get close again, especially when Goku’s free hand went to play with his nipples.

“Hey ‘G-geta.”

“I said be silent.”

“I know, but, I was wonderin if I could sneak a lil sip?”

Vegeta’s breath hitched as Goku sucked on a sensitive spot behind his ear saying, “You ate 3 bowls of pasta and half the damn salad bar.”

“But ‘Geta, I’m huungrryy,” Goku licked a stripe along his shoulder. “It’ll feel good, promise.”

“I know how it feels you- ah,” Vegeta had to pause, Goku taking a hand from his hip to stroke Vegeta’s cock with him, the thrusting pushing him into the pillows now, “Guh-!”

“Can I? Real quick?”

“Fuck, fuck, fine,” Vegeta was too close to say no anyhow.

He watched over his shoulder as Goku’s teeth began to grow longer and sharper. Faintly, he was reminded of their alley fight. How Goku had him pinned against the wall, and his justified panic as the teeth sunk into his shoulder. There was still the flicker of fear at the corner of his mind, and the pain when those teeth dug in this time was brief. Vegeta let out a breathless scream, cumming hard into the pillows while Goku continued pulling him off. Except the feeling of cumming didn’t stop as the muscles in his legs and stomach locked up. That wasn’t normal was it? More cum spilled between his thighs, beginning to drip down his knees while Goku moaned into his neck. His back was squished into Goku’s chest, the vampire had one hand on his pec and the other hooked tight around his pelvis as he drank.

Vegeta gasped for breath, his hand weakly coming to bat away the hand still stroking him. It was too much. He was going to die. His heart thudded rapidly in his chest, while his body trembled with the orgasm that didn’t want to fucking finish. Finally, Goku pulled off, licking the wound closed, and Vegeta rag dolled in his arms. He was shaking, the sound of tight, wet gasps coming from his closed lips. New rule. No biting while they’re fucking. He wasn’t about to do that shit again no matter how good it felt. Goku kissed the fading bite mark while pulling them down to lay in bed, and several thoughts ran through Vegeta’s mind. The first was that he had to clean his sheets earlier than planned. The second was where did Peaches go? The final one being, oh kami did she watch? Did she see everything? He probably traumatized his cat, or maybe she didn’t care.

Goku was spooning him from behind, nuzzling his face into Vegeta’s hair. Okay, that was one single cute thing the other did. He was just too out of it to make a comment mocking the vampire. A small meow came from the doorway, and Vegeta raised his head enough to see Peaches sitting on the floor. He knew that look. It was the same look she gave him when he forced medicine down her throat. With a blink, she turned tail and went down the hall, her tail swishing in agitation. She better not knock down anything in his office like last time.

“Hey ‘Geta.”

“nngh?” He was almost asleep at this point, feeling warm in Goku’s arms.

Goku’s voice was quiet as he said, “Can ya say Kakarot’s welcome here.”

“Wha-?”

“I’ll let ya go ta sleep right afterwards, just real quick.”

He didn’t know what was happening in the moment, his body feeling great post-orgasm combined with the exhaustion of getting drunk from again, and maybe that muscle relaxant Goku told him about last time, but it was the perfect brain cocktail for him to not give a shit.

“Kakarot’s welcome here,” he muttered, his eyes closing. Something twisted in his gut as soon as the words left his mouth. Almost as though he’d made some terrible mistake, but couldn’t place why for the moment. Whatever. That was a problem for future Vegeta.

“Aw thanks, night ‘Geta,” Goku kissed his temple.

Vegeta let out another weak moan, the blanket coming over them by magic, not magic, it was Goku, before he finally fell asleep.


	7. Raise the Stakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was already finished i swear!!! thanks again to [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs) for the beta! youre a mcfucking delight

Vegeta opened his eyes the next morning feeling warm, and then he felt filthy. There were flakes of dried cum between his thighs, his shoulders ached, and his mouth tasted like crap. A heavy arm sat draped over his waist and someone’s nose poked into the back of his neck. What did he do last night? The arm around his waist tightened and a leg was thrown over his hip as the person behind him mumbled something incoherent. And now he was trapped. Who did he do last night? Pieces of the previous evening came back to him as he woke up, a loud snore coming from Goku to signal, yes, he did let all that happen. He also didn’t regret any of it. In fact, he considered giving it another go.

Shifting in bed, he tried to move out of Goku’s arms, but there was a snuffling sound followed by a groan as the idiot clung even tighter to Vegeta. Great. Vegeta leaned his head back, a different weight shifting above his hair that came along with purring. It seemed Peaches made herself comfortable above them during the night. An odd warm feeling began to settle in his chest at being surrounded this way, but before it could grow he strangled it quiet. There were enough feelings last night, and he had work damn it. Wait, what time was it? He managed to wrestle his arm free so he could turn his clock over. It was nine in the morning. He was supposed to be clocking in at the moment.

Any remnants of comfort and exhaustion vanished as he grappled himself out of Goku’s arms and darted for the bathroom. Peaches had become his alarm clock, waking him up early by screaming at him for breakfast, but today she’d failed that task. This probably meant she’d gotten into something she wasn’t supposed to and ate that, but that was a problem for future Vegeta. Current Vegeta had to take a ten minute shower, which would’ve been five minutes if it weren’t for all the dried cum between his legs, and get dressed. He was brushing his teeth as he paced back to his room, grabbing a pair of boxers and hopping into them one leg at a time.

A long groan came from the bed which he ignored. Actually, what was he supposed to do with Goku still here? Asking him to lock the door on his way out would imply Vegeta needed to give him a key. He sure as hell didn’t want Goku to stick around until he got home that night. The toothbrush sat in his mouth while he pulled on his suit pants and hurried to buckle his belt. His stomach growled, angry at him for his regular routine being so thoroughly disrupted. The taste of mint and foam around his lips prodded him back to the restroom to gargle before he swallowed a mouthful of toothpaste.

Then, as if time reset itself, Peaches’ loud meowing flowed from the bedroom. Now she decided to wake up. He came back into his room to see Goku sitting up in bed, his hair somehow messier, his eyes half-lidded with sleep, and Peaches in his arms pressing a paw into his cheek. The blanket had fallen to sit at his hips, his head lolling forward just before it would snap back up fighting sleep.

Vegeta rapidly tapped a finger against his thigh as he thought of what to say. Thanks? Get out? Hey, do you know how to reverse lock pick because I refuse to give you a key?

Goku seemed to finally notice him, a soft smile coming onto his face, “Mornin ‘Geta.”

That warm feeling in his chest came back with a vengeance, and Vegeta’s face grew hot with the expression and the sentiment. He didn’t have time to unpack all that, and he didn’t want to. It was just sex. There was no emotional attachment needed. He remembered he was dealing with the most annoying man in the world and schooled his features as he grabbed the rest of his clothes.

“I thought yer gi made ya look real sexy, but maybe ya just have an ass for any pair of pants,” Goku’s words were soft and slurred as if he wasn’t being vulgar.

“You want to tell me what’s the point of drinking my blood if it’ll just make you laze around in my bed all morning?” He’d popped the last button of his shirt closed.

“I can’t help it, ya ran me ragged last night.”

“You didn’t even stick it in.”

“I know. I’m probably gonna be twice as tired when ya put it in me.”

Vegeta’s face discovered an entirely new color it could change to. Wait, he was the one that was going to be plug A into slot B? He didn’t even think there’d be a next time. Hoped? Yes. Thought? No. So to suddenly get a confirmation with that kind of knowledge… He looked over his shoulder to see Goku had slumped back into the pillows, his head turned away exposing the line of his neck down to his wide chest. Goku had played with his nipples a lot, even sucking on them. Vegeta realized he could return the favor. He could probably bite. There was a lot of chestnut brown skin to bite, and suck, and, wow his pants needed adjusting. How about he not get a fucking erection when he was 20 minutes late for work.

“You better not be here when I get home,” Vegeta shrugged his jacket on.

“You got it mister boss man,” Goku was pulling the blankets back over himself. “Ah, wait, come over here real quick.”

“What?”

“Come on. I said it’ll be quick.”

Vegeta made sure his sigh was extra annoyed as he walked over to the bed. “What.”

“Come here,” Goku whispered.

He bent down, his eyebrow twitching as he waited.

A kiss was pressed against his lips, Goku letting out a pleased hum and tasting faintly of morning breath before he ended it, “Good luck at work.”

Vegeta needed to leave. He cleared his throat, nodded, and most certainly didn’t power walk out of the room as fast as his legs could take him. He wasn’t running away. He was rushing to work. The torn bag of cat food splayed on the kitchen counter confirmed his suspicions due to his lack of a wake-up call. Another problem for him to handle later. Let’s see how petty Peaches is when he takes her treats away for the week.

Stopping at the door, he did one final pat down. Keys? Check. Cellphone and charger cause he forgot to leave it plugged in last night? Check. Briefcase? Check. Watch and tie? Check. Wallet? Check. Was he forgetting anything? Didn’t seem like it. He could think of an excuse on the way there.

By the time he got into work, the only people who’d asked him why he was late was Chichi and, the only person in his department who was the same ranking as him, Ginyu. He made up a lie about taking his cat to the vet for an emergency and left it at that. Overall, Vegeta was surprised at how easy he’d adjusted into his work after last night. He felt like he was working faster than usual, but with no end goal in mind. Chichi made a comment on him seeming more relaxed, and he wasn’t going to argue with her. He didn’t think he could take on the world, but he refrained from biting off several peoples’ heads during the afternoon. Vegeta remembered all the jabs Bulma’s friends would give him of a lay would do him some good. He refused to admit they were right, and he’d take this information of how to lighten his mood to his grave. It was just some extra dopamine.

Lunchtime rolled around, and Vegeta was about to leave his office when his cellphone rang. Except it was the default ring tone. Which didn’t make sense because he’d had his phone stolen, and everyone sans Goku had put on a personal ring tone that he hadn’t bothered changing. Goku should still be asleep if he was waiting for evening to leave Vegeta’s home. He pulled out his phone to see the contact.

Father calling…

Why in the hell was _he_ calling? Should he let it go to voicemail? No, that’d be suspicious. His father rarely made a phone call, the last one being about Tarble graduating university and that was years ago. No, his fathers’ regular form of communication were hand-written letters, so phone calls were for important events or urgent matters. He couldn’t ignore it.

He pressed the green button and put the phone to his ear, “Hello Father.”

“Vegeta. I’ve set up a match for you. She’s well aware of your personal faults, as well as your financial status, and, after speaking with both her and her mother, she’s willing to consider marriage after a meeting,” Vegeta Sr. had the same grating voice as he did when Vegeta was a child.

“Excuse me?”

“Her name is Cocotte. She’s taller than you, but that can’t be helped. I’ve sent a folder to your personal email with her information, and I want you to look at it tonight. Clear your schedule for next Thursday for her meeting. Get a new suit tailored as well. You can go to our regular shop. I know you never take days off, so the timing shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Hold on.”

“As long as you don’t screw this up, you can be married within six months. She loves children. You can get started about that next year. Also, make sure that you-.”

His father’s voice faded to background noise since Vegeta knew whatever he tried to say to dissuade this decision would get steam rolled. Had he sunk so low in his father’s eyes that the old man had set up a loosely arranged marriage? The bastard bore so little faith in Vegeta to find someone on his own that he went out and did it himself. Vegeta knew he was failing to meet both unknown and impossible standards from his father, but to fail a test he didn’t realize bore a time limit was like a punch to the gut. The familiar sense of hollowness began to grow in his chest. Every fight with his father left him on the side of losing whether by giving in or by holding the growing weight of being the family disappointment. What did his opinion matter anyway? What did Vegeta matter anyway? He hadn’t accomplished anything of a worthy note. Hell, Tarble was married, and he’d been disowned for a time until grandkids were on the way.

His shoulders sagged, his emotions starting to bathe themselves in apathy. He could meet the woman. What did he have to lose besides his dignity? Sitting at the dinner table, under his father’s watchful eye, as he played house made his lip curl into a sneer. The idea of settling down wasn’t repulsive, but Vegeta felt settled enough on his own. He would prefer not having another person mess up his routi-. Goku. Vegeta’s eyes widened realizing his second problem of the day. In lieu of having his cock royally sucked, he knew he didn’t enjoy the romantic company of women. On top of that, despite the annoyances, sex with Goku was good. Really good. Vegeta never thought he’d trust someone with his naked body, but having his blood sucked so often may have cut some holes in the tapestries so to speak. Goku’s touch being as honest as his words was the icing on the cake. The memory of that morning’s goodbye kiss made him press his lips together into a thin line.

Vegeta ran a hand through his hair, his father’s voice prattling off in his ear. Why in the hell was he sitting there like some obedient dog waiting for his master’s next command? What right did his father have telling him how to navigate his life without being asked? None that’s what! Vegeta was a grown man, and he’d dictate his life up however he pleased, future family be damned! Vegeta deserved better than that. He deserved more than being his father’s pseudo clone to project his ideals and standards of life on. But more importantly, Vegeta wanted to do more things with Goku, and other men if the opportunity presented itself. He refused to settle down with some woman, knock her up, and go on like that so his father wouldn’t look at him like a failure.

“I’m gay,” he said interrupting his father’s spiel.

There was a pause before he got a response, “What did you say?”

“I’m gay. I’m not attracted to women.” Why did that feel so good to say out loud?

“Surely, you don’t expect me to believe that.”

“You want me to put it more bluntly? I just admitted that I love cock, and I’m not gonna marry the little clap trap you set up for me.”

“You’re obviously going through a mid-life crisis,” Vegeta Sr sighed, “It makes sense this would happen. You’ve never had a real relationship. The first person to show interest has made you confused. Cocotte is very forward, and once you meet her you’ll change your tune. I’m going to forget you said any of this, so don’t repeat it at the meeting on Thursday.”

“I’m in a relationship.” Why did he say that?

“You’re lying.”

Vegeta was lying, but he knew if he didn’t give his father some kind of proof he’d be catering to an older woman and her mother in his home on Thursday, “We’ve been together for a year and a half now. I never told you because I assumed you’d stay out of my love life.”

“What’s his name.”

Crap. What was the stupid thing Goku made him say last night? “Kakarot. His name is Kakarot.”

“I’m sure you can drop your current fling.”

“Actually, he lives with me.” Vegeta was hysterical at this point, with a hand covering the top half of his face. Keep digging this hole. He could cover up the lie later when he had time.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. He moved in a couple of months ago.”

“Then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind introducing him to your father tomorrow.”

“….Tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow. My monthly business meeting with Nappa takes me through your city, so I can spare a few hours for dinner with you and this Kakarot.”

Shit.

“That is, unless he isn’t real. Then we can pretend you didn’t try to lie like a child and be adults about your marriage to Cocotte.”

“Oh he’s real. He’ll be excited to make room at the dinner table for you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it as well. I’ll be there at six.” His father hung up without a goodbye.

He looked at his phone screen for a solid minute of silence before saying, “I need to scream.”

What had he done? WHAT HAD HE DONE? Vegeta opened the door to see Chichi standing there, a blush on her face, and her hand hovering as if she were going to knock. He didn’t know how much of that conversation she’d heard, but he also didn’t care. It’s not like she was a blather mouth.

“I’m taking a two hour break. I will answer neither my work phone nor my cell phone, so don’t try to contact me,” Vegeta said.

She nodded stepping aside as he walked by.

He waited until he was in his car. Held the rage and irritation with himself in as he pulled out of the parking lot. So that when he turned the music up to full volume with the windows tightly shut, he could scream all the way to the buffet where he went to stress eat. The rest of his work day went off without a hitch.

Vegeta drove home that night feeling apprehensive. He’d roped Goku into a scheme without any confirmation he’d say yes, and the bastard was sadistic to a tee. What if he said no? What if he made Vegeta beg? What if he asked Vegeta to do depraved acts in exchange like humiliating himself in front of ~~his~~ Bulma’s friends, or going on dates, or wearing funny costumes in public? Ugh. Vegeta shuddered at the last thought. He’d have to appeal to the idiot’s more banal nature. Vegeta wasn’t repulsed by the idea of playing blood donor a few times in exchange for the favor. Goku seemed to know when to stop, and Vegeta had twenty vacation days he had yet to use. Hopefully, the vampire wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and take what he could get. He was going to have a long phone call when he got home.

 “I’m home,” he said opening the door. The house looked empty, but he could’ve sworn he’d turned the kitchen light off when he left. If Peaches was back flipping off the counter again-. An angry meow came from the space below him.

Looking down he saw a turned over laundry basket, and a paw poking out one of the holes to grab at the carpet. What the hell? A sniffling came from the kitchen, and he went in to find Goku on the tile floor, sniffling as he counted bits of cat food into piles of twenty.

“Goku, what the fuck,” Vegeta stood over him, his eyebrow twitching in irritation. Why was he still here?

“Geeta, Peaches spilled her cat food in front of me,” Goku looked up at him, his eyes a little pink.

He forgot he’d left the spilled bag on the counter. His eyes drifted over to where the paper bag rested on the floor along with dozens of tiny piles of cat food. “I thought I told you to be gone by the time I got back.”

“I tried, but I gotta count all these,” He sniffled again.

“Why?”

“Vampire rules! I don’t know why!”

Vegeta was still a bit hysterical after the lunch conversation with his father, and the absurdity of the situation made him burst into laughter. Clutching his chest, he leaned a hand onto the counter, laughing harder when Goku told him to stop. Holy shit. He was definitely going to remember this the next time Goku pissed him off. Note to self, start keeping a handful of rice in his pocket.

He managed to calm down when his stomach began to hurt, his laughter interspersed with coughing, “Why is Peaches under the hahaha laundry basket?”

“She thought I was tryna play with her, and kept makin me lose count,” He sniffled moving aside another pile and pointed a thumb to the living room, “I had to put her in jail.”

Vegeta peaked back into the hall to see the turned over laundry basket and two paws reaching out to claw at the rug. That did it. He was laughing again. He needed to sit down. He couldn’t breathe. Coughing began to mix in with his laughter as he managed to drag his feet to the couch. He kept a hand on his stomach while he fought to catch his breath. This was rich.

After twenty minutes of the occasional sniffle or frustrated meow, he heard a relieved sigh from the kitchen. The scittering of cat food made him sit up. Goku was cleaning for him? It was odd coming home and having someone to laugh at, but to clean up his cat’s mess too? He should let Peaches out. It was her dinner time unless Goku had fed her already. The clock read 8:31. The bastard couldn’t have been counting cat food since he left. What had he been doing while Vegeta was gone? Did he sleep half of the time or was he snooping around? He frowned swinging his legs over the couch and closed his eyes.

The padding of footsteps came around the couch and stopped in front of him when he felt a cold hand on his face.

“Geta? You okay?”

Vegeta opened his eyes. One of Goku’s fangs poked out from between his turned down lips, his brows furrowed, as he blinked down at him. The disgusting warmth from this morning returned with spittle and sparks, but Vegeta refused to let it take over.

He sneered, “Who’s Kakarot.”

Goku’s expression flipped from concerned to embarrassed as he took his hand back to rub his neck, “I have no idea.”

“You told me to say Kakarot’s welcome here last night, so unless you’re letting strangers in my house, I demand you tell me what that did.”

“Well, uh, that’s,” Goku puffed out his cheeks, “I mean it’s my real, real, old name that I don’t even use anymore and don’t keep on any of my documents, so it’s nothin to worry about. You can just call me Goku.”

“Would it annoy you if I called you Kakarot?”

“I wouldn’t like it, no.”

“All right then, Kakarot,” He let his other question go unanswered due to more pressing matters, “Why are you still in my house?”

“Well,” Goku tapped his chin in thought, “I woke up around six, and Peaches was cryin so I thought I’d feed her before I left. When I got to the kitchen though there was this big mess everywhere, and when I tried cleanin it up she knocked down the bag.”

“It took you two and a half hours to count half a bag of cat food.”

“I told you she kept tryin to play with me, and I lost count. I’m not good at math.”

“You said you did construction work!”

“That’s a different kind of math!”

Vegeta rubbed his temples. At least he knew why Goku was still here. Now came the less fun part, “Kakarot. We’re,” his lips curled back, “ _friends_ , right?”

Goku blinked at him with wide eyes letting his arms fall on the back of the couch as he sat down, “If suckin yer dick makes us friends I wonder what hoops yer other pals had to jump through.”

“WHAT,” Vegeta was out of his seat and grabbed Goku’s collar yanking him forward, “HOW DARE YOU, YOU-.”

Goku pressed a small kiss against his nose making him pause and let out a hacking sound.

He choked on his words, half starting to speak as he tried to fight through how infuriated and flabbergasted he felt until he gritted out, “Stop. Fucking. With me.”

“Aww, but ‘Geta,” Goku placed a hand onto Vegeta’s hip, his smile getting sharper, “Ya make it real easy.”

Vegeta’s face colored with a blush, “I have a bag of rice in the kitchen, Kakarot.”

“I’d feel threatened, but we both know ya don’t want me here any longer.”

“About that.” Vegeta forced himself to move onto the next topic. Dwelling on things with Goku just led him into verbal corners. It was easier if he just went with the waves and pushed back at the right times. “I need a favor.”

The vampire tilted his head waiting for the punchline.

He took a breath. He could do this. It was like ripping off a bandaid. Crossing his arms, he turned his head to the side, “My father decided to play match maker and find me a woman to marry, but I refused the offer on the discovery that I’m more inclined to men. However, he didn’t believe me, so tomorrow he’s coming over to meet my boyfriend of a year and a half, who’s just moved in with me, named Kakarot.”

“Ah.”

“What do you mean ah?”

Goku stood up, both his hands on Vegeta’s hips as he smiled down at him, “Wow, ‘Geta, we’re movin awful fast, but I’d love to move in with ya.”

“What.”

“There ain’t another bedroom though, unless ya want me to use yer office? Hm, but that’ll take a while to move everythin in. We’ll just have to share until I get my stuff all settled.”

“This isn’t an offer to live with me!”

“Actually, I can put my knittin stuff in yer office. Does Peaches like yarn? If she does I better put it in a locked box. Oh snap, I should let her out.” Goku kissed Vegeta’s forehead and went over to the laundry basket.

“KAKAROT.”

“I gotta go grocery shoppin tomorrow. Ya barely put anythin in yer fridge. Do ya eat regular? I was a chef for twenty or so years if ya can’t cook.”

Oh god this was so much worse than what he thought would happen. He couldn’t let Goku run with this. “Kakarot. Goku. Look at me.”

“Hm?” He held an angry Peaches in his arms looking like he belonged there.

“You are not moving in with me. This is only for tomorrow. After my father is gone, I want you out of my home. Do you understand?”

“…..Yeah,” Goku looked away as he responded setting Peaches down. “I’ll go get my stuff.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Ya told him I live with ya, so I gotta make it look like I live here. Be right back.” He put two fingers to his head and blinked out of existence.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Vegeta groaned. He just had to last three hours tomorrow night. Four at the most if his father decided to stay late. It’d be fine. At least that’s what he wanted to believe, but when Goku came back with two suitcases and a duffle bag something twisted in his gut. Why did he feel like he’d played himself? Why did Goku have suitcases? More importantly, why were they already packed and ready to go? The glare he gave was ignored while Goku lifted his things and walked up the stairs still barefoot from last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is 8k and finished, im writing the omake currently, sorry for the month long wait


	8. The Necks Best Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The final chapter! Thank you for your patience, and thank you [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs) for beta-ing this long ass chapter

Goku kicked him out of his own kitchen, saying his pacing was going to make the bread dough fall. While Vegeta didn’t believe him, he did relocate to the living room, making rounds around the couch, as he watched the clock on his wall. About 30 minutes before his father would arrive. There was nothing else to clean, and Goku’s things were well incorporated into his surroundings. In fact, they were too well incorporated from the knitted covers sitting on the small tables and furniture to the small paintings Vegeta would never hang up himself.

The townhouse was spotless, dinner was almost ready, and Peaches had been put upstairs so as not to cause distraction. He could do this. He could pull this off. Going over to the window, he peaked behind the curtains to check for a car. Knowing his father, the man would pull up ten minutes prior, wait in the car for nine, and knock on the door as soon as it hit six o’clock.

Two hands fell onto his hips when he closed the curtains, “Aren’t you getting familiar.”

“I gotta get into character,” Goku said as he turned Vegeta around.

“Do it without man handling me.” Vegeta slapped a hand away.

“Come on dumplin’. I was out all night last night grocery shoppin and gettin the house tidy that I couldn’t even sleep with ya.”

Vegeta flinched at the nickname Goku insisted would show their affection, “Yes, it was a very peaceful sleep. Do me a favor, and make yourself scarce tonight too while you’re packing your shit up.”

“Yer just sayin that cause yer stressed. Why’re ya so nervous about seein your dad?”

“You mean besides the fact that I’m acting out a huge lie?”

Goku nodded adjusting the headband that kept his bangs out of his face.

“I’d tell you, but I don’t know shit about you, and you’re not my damn therapist.”

“Guess I’ll have ta get ya to relax my own way.”

“What do you me-,” Vegeta watched as Goku dropped to his knees. “What are you doing.”

“What’s it look like?” Goku reached for Vegeta’s waistband, digging his fingers into his belt, but going no further.

“My father is on the way, and you want to give me a blowjob!”

“We got time. I can get ya off in like 5 minutes.”

“The first time was because I was inexperienced. Now I know what to expect. It won’t be so easy, Kakarot,” Vegeta crossed his arms glaring down at the bastard.

“Really? Ya didn’t last long enough the first time for me to use any tricks, so I think it’ll go about the same,” Goku’s thumbs traced along the clasp of his belt, “Unless ya wanna prove me wrong?”

It was a challenge. It was a ridiculous challenge that Vegeta could easily say no to. He didn’t have anything to prove to Goku of all people, and getting off wouldn’t help him relax.

“Now that I think about it, ya only lasted like two minutes the first time. I probably won’t need five.”

“Fuck you it was two minutes! Good luck getting me off in the next ten.”

Goku undid the clasp with a smile on his face. Vegeta refused to acknowledge that the fondness in his expression looked the slightest bit cute. Instead, he watched Goku take his cock out and press a kiss against the tip making his face grow warm. Why was Vegeta letting him do this? This was stupid. Wasn’t he supposed to be cooking? Goku pulled the head of Vegeta’s cock between his soft lips before resting his hands on Vegeta’s ass to guide his hips forward.

Vegeta moaned low because Goku’s mouth was a lot hotter than the last time they did this. Was he taste testing the food before he came in here? Vegeta had seen several things steaming on the stovetop when he was told to get out. Wait was there a chance of cross contamination? Could the food residue leave him with some kind of infection? A loud slurping sound followed, and although the noise made him cringe, Vegeta had a hand in Goku’s hair and the other on the vampire’s shoulder for something to cling to. Holy fuck what was he doing with his tongue.

He muttered something along the lines of ‘don’t stop’ as his cock grew hard. Goku let out a moan around his mouthful taking no time to swallow Vegeta down to the root. He should be watching the time. They couldn’t mess around for too long. Goku’s head pulled back halfway before taking Vegeta down again drawing a weak moan from his throat. That was good. The pace was slow, Vegeta giving soft moans and trying not to drool at the pleasant feeling crawling up his stomach.

On occasion, Goku would look up at Vegeta and bat his eyelashes at him before loudly slurping around his mouthful. This made Vegeta torn between hitting him or trying to choke him with his dick. It wasn’t fair for him to be so good at this, but Goku loved pressing his buttons.

Just when Goku was sucking his cock with a steady rhythm, he stopped with the tip in his mouth. Vegeta was breathing heavy, one hand still in Goku’s hair as he opened his eye to glance down. Why did he stop? Humming around his mouthful, Goku brought Vegeta’s other hand to his hair pressing the tip of his tongue into the slit as he sucked. Vegeta’s hips jerked forcing a grunt out of Goku, but still the bastard didn’t move. What did he want Vegeta to do? Goku blinked up at him waiting as his tongue swirled around the head sending tingles of pleasure up Vegeta’s abdomen.

Testing the waters, Vegeta pressed himself further between Goku’s lips to get a moan in return. Oh? _Oh._ Vegeta didn’t waste time, getting back to the pace where Goku left off. Hands wandered down Vegeta’s legs to rub the back of his thighs making his hips stutter.

A brief choking sound followed, but Goku’s fingers dug into Vegeta’s thighs pressing him on.

“Do you like this?” Vegeta’s fingers scratched Goku’s scalp.

That earned him a lower moan in response. Goku’s hands went up to cup Vegeta’s ass, squishing the muscle and urging him forward. Vegeta took the hint, thrusting faster into Goku’s mouth making the vampire grunt and groan as he continued to suck and lick around the cock in his mouth. A mantra of yes’s came from Vegeta’s lips as he got close. His hips pistoning against Goku’s face giving him little chance to breathe. Did vampires need to breathe? Goku was almost whimpering now, his fingers digging hard into Vegeta’s ass to keep him from stopping. Spit and precum slid down Goku’s chin and under Vegeta’s balls as his thighs trembled.

He was really really close. How long did he last? Fuck, Goku was doing that weird thing with his tongue again.

“I-I’m going to-,” Vegeta couldn’t finish the sentence, panting as he stopped moving, feeling himself on the edge. He came in Goku’s mouth last time, but it was prematurely, so he couldn’t give much of a warning. He didn’t even know if Goku would let him this time now that he had more control over himself.

The slick finger that pressed behind his ballsack only to press into his asshole caught Vegeta off guard. His eyes widening as he came down Goku’s throat while his fingers gripped the dark strands of Goku’s hair tight enough to force a whine from the vampire.

Vegeta trembled as Goku shifted to remove Vegeta’s hands from his hair. He let Vegeta’s cock slip from his mouth, the wet appendage resting on his face when he gave the shaft a kiss.

“Vulgar bastard.”

“You like it,” Goku stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Feel better?”

“No, I don’t.” That was a lie. Vegeta felt a little better. He was adjusting himself in his pants when Goku gave him a brief kiss on the nose, “That’s disgusting.”

“Oh hush.”

Vegeta zipped himself up, fumbling with the clasp as he looked up at Goku, “This means nothing.”

“Course it don’t,” Goku said with a wink.

He watched the vampire go back into the kitchen like nothing had transpired but a simple chat. How did Goku manage to make walking away annoying? The doorbell rang as he fixed his hair, launching his heart into his throat. Shit. He looked at the clock. Fuck! It was six. Why the hell had he let Goku do that? It was fine. He was fine. He could do this. All he had to do was lie to his father and not see him again until his younger brother had a kid or something. Simple.

Taking a breath, Vegeta went to the front door and opened it, reminded of his faulty height when he met the stern look of his father. “Hello.”

“Do you give all your guests a show before they arrive?” Vegeta Sr. raised an eyebrow.

“A show?”

“The window.”

What the hell did that mean? He was standing by the window earlier, but, oh no. The blowjob. The fact that the curtains were closed meant nothing if the living room light was on. Which it was. Which meant their silhouettes were visible from the street for anyone walking by to see clear as day. Which meant Goku got him off in front of the window on purpose THAT SON OF A-.

Vegeta cleared his throat, his expression neutral, “Take off your shoes.”

Vegeta Sr slipped them off after being let inside. His father had only come to his home three times. The first being when he moved in, the second was after Tarble was in talks about marriage plans, and the third was when he and Bulma had recently become friends. Lucky number four was right now as his father noted how the whole space changed with his “boyfriend”. Ugh. It sounded so juvenile when he phrased it like that. Vegeta closed the door behind him while he looked around the entryway with an open alcove to the right.

He hadn’t filled the space with furniture yet besides a rug, but now some of Goku’s paintings sat on the walls. At first he thought the idiot painted them, but, when he asked, Goku mentioned something about being friends with a Manet guy and getting some of his less liked pieces. Vegeta had to stop himself from choking on his own spit at the idea of million dollar paintings sitting framed in his home. Did Goku know how much they were worth, or did he not care? Vegeta didn’t mention Manet’s presence in the art world. Goku had to know. They’d been talking from when Goku got back with groceries, and the idiot had a ridiculous amount of hobbies ranging from a proficiency in Chinese and French to bow-fishing and mole-hunting. Vegeta didn’t know what mole hunting was, and that earned him a 20 minute explanation of how people listen or watch the ground to pull them out.

 “I see you’ve redecorated,” Vegeta Sr glanced at the couch cover in distaste.

“He likes to knit.” Ah yes, and there was his current hobby. Knitting. Goku had a club with a bunch of older women that he met with every Sunday morning, hence why Vegeta’s apartment was now filled with the soft furniture covers.

“’Geta, I heard the doorbell ring. Is he here?” Goku’s voice mixed with the cluttering of dishes in the kitchen.

“Yes, he’s here.”

Vegeta Sr looked down at his son, “Your Kakarot I presume?”

His Kakarot. Thinking of Goku like that made him feel…weird. Better not dwell on it. Vegeta nodded and held his arm out for his fathers’ jacket. The man was in a full suit and looked more dressed for a business deal than he was to visit his own child. Vegeta could count the number of times he’d seen his father in casual clothes on one hand.

Goku walked into the hall, a dish towel in his hands as he wiped them off. His bangs were still held back with the headband, but there were smudges of flour on his shirt, apron, and one of his cheeks giving him a docile appearance.

He gave them both a warm smile as he held his hand out, “Ya must be Mr. Vegeta. It’s nice to meet ya finally. Geta doesn’t talk about ya much.”

“A pleasure,” Vegeta Sr glanced down at Goku’s hand and gave it a brief shake. “I was unaware of your existence until yesterday.”

Vegeta bristled at that, and he hated how well he knew his father. It was an insult wrapped in perceived ignorance, and, had this not been a farce, would be saying to Goku that he didn’t actually matter. Good thing this wasn’t real, but Vegeta knew what mood would be set for the rest of the evening.

“Yeah, he’s real shy. I think it’s cute,” Goku didn’t falter in the slightest.

“Hm.”

“Dinner’s in the oven, so it’ll be another five minutes or so. Ya won’t mind waitin for a bit would ya, dumplin?”

“It’s fine, Kakarot. We’ll be in the living room,” Vegeta said getting a kiss on the cheek as a thank you.

It wasn’t until both father and son were sitting on opposite chairs that Vegeta Sr. said, “So, instead of a wife, you’ve picked up a hillbilly.”

Vegeta hated how he said it. The disappointment. The resentment. The “I raised you better than this” that under lied so few words. How his father’s tone could make him both sick and angry was a feat on its own. However, he wouldn’t take it lying down. Looking towards the kitchen, he replied, “I like his accent.”

Huh. That didn’t feel like a lie when he said it. The clanking of dishes and the sound of the sink running made appropriate background noise.

“I can see how your time with martial arts has developed you. A poor decision on my part letting you pursue it since it’s led you to shack up with a muscle brained idiot for his cooking skills,” Vegeta Sr. huffed.

“You’ve talked to him for less than thirty seconds, and you’re making judgements. Did you really come here to meet him, or guilt me into doing things your way.”

“I’m trying to think of your future, Vegeta.”

“Don’t expect me to believe that you give a damn if I’m happy or not. Now you decide you want me to believe that you want the best for me? Nice job showing it for the past, I don’t know, since I was born.”

“Don’t disrespect your father. You have no idea the strings I pulled to find a woman like Cocotte. She isn’t going to wait for your mid-life crisis to pass. All you need to do is end this little arrangement of yours tonight, or deal with the consequences.”

“Looks like I’ll be dealing with the consequences because the email you sent with her information seems to have vanished.” It was the most polite style of saying he’d deleted it without even opening it up.

Goku poked his head into the living room, his headband gone and his appearance no longer dusted with flour, “Soup’s on!”

Either the idiot failed at reading the room, or he ignored the angry tension following the pair from the living room into kitchen and finally the connected dining room. How much did Goku hear? Did it even matter? It’s not like they would talk after his father left. Besides, the more that went left unsaid, the faster this night would go without a brawl. Had he thrown hands with his father before? When he was a toddler sure. Would he now? Possibly. He was still mulling it over. Goku smiled like nothing was amiss as he started to make everyone’s plates.

A round table sat small enough in the square room that Vegeta and Goku’s chairs were spaced with a small gap between them leaving Vegeta Sr’s seat enough room to stand up from either side. This also gave the appearance that the two were close to Vegeta’s dismay. He enjoyed his personal space, but it’d be nonexistent tonight.

Three plates with individual sized pots and a half set of silverware sat next to triangle folded napkins. Vegeta was working open the cork on a bottle of wine, while Goku finished pouring the beef stew into each serving pot. Next to the pots were a couple of biscuits and a salad with lettuce leaves that poked over the edge of the plate.

“I know it’s a lil warm out for stew, but it’s my favorite thing ta make,” Goku said taking the large pot back over to the stove.

“It’s a simple dish,” Vegeta Sr replied.

“Yup. Real easy to make changes to.”

Vegeta got the cork out, filling everyone’s glasses halfway, before he sat down.

“So, Kakarot, what is it that you do?”

“I do construction work, but my last contract finished a few days ago. The company I’m workin for is waitin on another one.”

Vegeta Sr nodded, “Of course it’s a job where you don’t need to think too much.”

“Actually, if I couldn’t do all that math and weight shifts needed to put a building up, I wouldn’t have a job. There’s a lotta physics needed ta keep a business from topplin down onto its’ workers.”

Vegeta began to eat and, holy shit, this was amazing. Goku wasn’t kidding when he said he’d cooked for a while. “Kakarot, what’s in this?”

“I’m glad ya asked! I put the beef in a marinade this time before puttin it in the stew. How do ya like it?”

“It’s good.”

The room remained blissfully quiet with the sound of cutlery tapping against plates. During this, Vegeta was preparing himself for an argument from his father after the interrogation was over. For all his flaws and past mistakes to be thrown in his face with swift efficiency as was his father’s practice of tearing him down to build him up again. He wondered if Goku would try to hop in and defend him? That never went well for anyone else, and it would only result in embarrassing Vegeta. He could fight his own battles, and he knew how to deal with his father. There were times for fighting back and times to remain silent. He’d figure out which when dinner was over.

“So, Kakarot, what are your hobbies?”

“I like knittin.”

“I can see that,” Vegeta Sr spared a glance at the knitted table cover under the vase for the table centerpiece. “Anything else?”

“I make my own yarn. I also like workin with clay for vases, hikin, boulderin, sky divin, but I really love martial arts.”

Vegeta Sr didn’t hide the distaste in his tone, “Of course. Odd for you to have such a thing in common when my son hasn’t entered the martial arts circuit in years.”

“Are ya askin how we met? Cause it wasn’t with fightin. We met at a club.”

“A club. Aren’t you both a little old to be attending such social conventions?”

“Nah. Yer never too old ta dance. I admit I was kinda tipsy when I accidentally sat at his table, but ‘Geta was nice ta me. Didn’t talk much, but he listened, and we had ta part ways pretty early. It wasn’t til a month later that we ran into each other again at a grocery store. He was so excited ta see me he took me to this cute lil café, and I gave him my number.”

How in the hell did he make such awful encounters sound like pleasantries? Vegeta used his last biscuit to clean the inside of his bowl as he continued to listen.

“What made you decide to move in together?”

“Ah,” Goku placed a hand on his cheek and closed his eyes, “It’s a lil embarrassin. He ain’t the mushy type, but we were lyin in bed together about ta go ta sleep when he passed me a key. He said I had enough of my stuff in here that I might as well move the rest of it in.”

That did sound like something he would say if that was real. Vegeta commended him on not romanticizing things.

“You must’ve lived in a rather down trodden place to move in with him so fast.”

“Nope, it was a nice place. The landlord was the sweetest ol’ lady, but it’s nice comin home to somebody,” Goku gave Vegeta another one of those soft smiles.

He needed to stop looking at Vegeta like that or he’d get a punch to the teeth. See how fast the fangs grew back this time.

“Anybody want seconds?” Goku asked getting up from the table.

“Not tonight. Don’t worry about cleaning up either. How about you and my father go talk in the living room. I’m sure he’d love to hear about how you made the furniture covers. You could show him the coasters you were working on this morning,” Vegeta stood up as well and started to stack the bowls and plates.

“That’s a great idea. Come on, Mr. Vegeta. I got tons of questions about ‘Geta when he was little.”

Vegeta let a satisfied smile show as he watched his father succumb to such a fate due to social politeness. Dinner and conversation managed to kill an hour, but there was still another two he had to endure. He could pop in a movie. Something interesting that would strangle any attempts for conversation. The challenge was, if he’d be able to find anything that would hold his father’s attention long enough to derail the line of questioning. Unless Vegeta found a movie based on a play, or a theatre show recording, it was unlikely his father would tolerate any Hollywood film for longer than ten minutes. Vegeta Sr. had always been disgustingly pretentious which was why he looked down at Vegeta’s love of fighting.

He started rinsing the dishes off for the dishwasher as he listened to muted bits of conversation from the living room. Goku wasn’t skipping out on the details about patterns and stitch types for his creations. Vegeta had to stop himself from cackling when the vampire offered his father a few handmade trinkets to take home. He left the food covered on the countertop but paused at the sight of the big plastic spoon next to the pot of stew. Maybe just another taste. It’s not like anyone would know. He’d finished rather quickly, so any time spent in here would be under the assumption that he was putting the food away.

Vegeta made sure to be quiet as he tasted the soup and chewed on a soft hunk of potato. This was sinful. How did Goku make something like this in his kitchen? The pan of biscuits peaked out from the edge of his vision, and he suddenly remembered not liking reheated biscuits so much. Just one. They were soft, and it’d be a shame not to enjoy them fresh. Bulma’s words rung in his head as he helped himself to another spoonful because he needed something to get the biscuit down his throat.

_“You only eat this much when you’re stressed.”_

_“I don’t eat that much.”_

_Bulma had her hands on her hips, “Yes you do. Why else would your ass be so fat?”_

_“BULMA.”_

_“Vegeta, I could use those cheeks as a memory foam pillow.”_

What had she meant by that? Popping the last bite of biscuit into his mouth, he made sure he was out of sight from the doorway and reached around to grab himself. Dear Kami she was right. Those yoga classes weren’t doing shit. He was getting back on the elliptical as soon as possible because when did he get so soft? Vegeta moved his hand away, chewing on the last hunk of beef off the spoon feeling frustrated.

“Dumplin?”

Shit. He froze, the spoon still in his hand while the other’s footsteps closed in.

“You doin’ all right in here?” Goku placed to hands on Vegeta’s hips, pressing his chest into his back as he spoke low against his ear, “I thought you didn’t want seconds.”

Vegeta managed to swallow his mouthful, “My father-.”

“Usin the bathroom upstairs.” Goku nipped at his ear as he pressed his crotch into Vegeta’s ass. “Probably snoopin’.”

“ _Kakarot_.”

“Forgot how borin it is playin housewife. You knooow,” He kisses Vegeta’s cheek. “I could get a lil sip.” Another kiss behind his ear. “Say yer feelin under the weather.” A third kiss presses at his jawline. “And make him leave early.”

“You’re going to make me fucking anemic.”

Goku dragged his tongue along the inside of Vegeta’s neck, “Didn’t sound like a no.”

It’d be an easy cop-out. Unfortunately, he needed to be conscious enough to remove Goku from his house at the end of the night. He refused to be taken advantage of further, and he was starting to feel more like a soda can than a person with the bastard hanging around. Not to mention, all those sweet smiles and soft touches were an obvious front. Goku didn’t give a shit about him. The vampire saw a free meal in a depressed thirty something year old and chose to play the sympathy card so he could check in whenever he wanted. Vegeta was many things, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. He turned around in Goku’s arms and grabbed the collar of his shirt.

Glaring, he whispered, “How about you do us both a favor, and stop pretending you give a shit about me.”

“Huh?”

“I know you see me as a meal ticket. You think fucking me will get me attached? You’re wrong. The only reason I asked you to do this for me was because I’m desperate, not because I trust you.”

Goku returned the glare, keeping his voice low as well, “But you said we were friends.”

“I let you give me a blowjob for the whole damn neighborhood to see. _Do I look like I know what a friend is_?”

Goku continued to glare at him, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared Vegeta down. After a moment, his features relaxed, his eyes lighting up with understanding, “Oh, yer doin that runnin away thing again.”

“I’m doing a what?”

“Don’t worry ‘Geta, we’ll figure this out,” Goku placed his hand on Vegeta’s cheek and kissed him before he could respond.

Vegeta huffed when Goku nibbled on his bottom lip, his grip on the bastard’s collar loosening. This kiss was nicer than the others. The lack of tongue did wonders, and clearly this was another trick. He couldn’t let Goku manipulate him again. A man could only take so much. Someone cleared their throat from the kitchen entryway as they broke apart.

“My apologies for the interruption,” Vegeta Sr. said.

“No, I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t be gettin so cuddly with ‘Geta while you’re here.” Goku scratched his cheek, looking at the floor embarrassed.

“May I ask what it is you two need to figure out?”

Vegeta’s eyes widened a fraction. How long had his father been standing there? What had he heard? Did he figure out this was a ruse? Would he call them out, or drag the confession from Vegeta with one gnarled finger at a time?

“The sexual harassment I been dealin with at work.”

Vegeta Sr opened his mouth and closed it, taking a moment to process his words before saying, “I assumed someone of your stature wouldn’t have such issues.”

“Yeah. At first I thought it was just grazin by accidents. Ya know like when yer on a crowded bus or somethin, but then some people started really grabbin me. I can’t fight back due to some stuff written in my contract. I can only report it. That’s why Geta’s lookin over things for me to see if he can find somethin I can do.”

“Why haven’t you called one of our lawyers for this?” Vegeta Sr crossed his arms over his chest.

“Weren’t you the one that told me never buy a tool you won’t use? I can comb through contracts as good as them, and if I can’t find anything there’s no point reaching out.”

“How about you two take this to the livin room? I’ll be right out after I make some coffee,” Goku placed a hand on the small of Vegeta’s back nudging him away from the stovetop.

“No sugar,” Vegeta shoved his hands into his pockets letting himself be guided away.

“I know that. I’m more than sweet enough for ya.”

“Don’t be annoying.”

Goku stuck his tongue out at him as he left.

He went over to his DVD case instead of sitting down to stall. Vegeta didn’t care if his father lost interest and told him to change the movie twenty times, that’d mean less time for further conversation.

“You appear to be rather infatuated with each other,” Vegeta Sr started.

Vegeta grunted neither confirming nor denying the accusation. That was one way to word what they were doing.

“I want to be more surprised about this man, but you’ve never shown interest in anyone until now. Even Nappa would say your ideal type was a mystery. Everything else seemed to come first for you.”

What did his father want to him to say? Vegeta Sr was right. First it was being better than others, then it was winning, after that it was martial arts, and when that road was cut off, Vegeta was left with figuring out who he wanted to be. However, he found he couldn’t do that either since his father had every step of his future planned out from the first year of high school to when he stepped into the office as a shitty intern for Saiya Insurance. His mental breakdown three years in pushed him to therapy, and meeting Bulma a couple years later allowed him to form some skeleton of a personality. It was easier not talking to people because he couldn’t tell them what he liked. He didn’t know his favorite color, or song, or movie or anything. He just consumed what he could and either gave a strong negative response or mild appreciation.

Now that he thought about it, it was no wonder Vegeta failed to notice Bulma flirting with him. He didn’t believe anyone could like him when he didn’t like himself. Peaches would be the only exception to this, but she depended on him to live, so she didn’t count.

“There was no time for anything else.” Vegeta’s tone was bitter. His father’s shadow stretched so far when he was a child that exploring something not related to martial arts seemed daunting. There was always another one of his father’s business partners, acquaintances, or friend of a friend that would recognize him. ‘You’re Vegeta’s son, aren’t you,’ or ‘You look just like him,’ or even ‘I have some opportunities for you if you’re interested.’ The last thing Vegeta wanted was to be handed an easy way out because of his lineage. He wanted to work for it. Earn it with his own calloused hands, and fighting was the one place he could do it without his father’s influence shielding him. Especially since he’d seen his father slip money into enough hands that he wondered for the longest if talent was real or bought.

“Nonetheless, it’s good to see that you’ll allow yourself to be intimate with someone. I’ll be sure to update your information to Cocotte.”

Was he still going on about that? Vegeta opened his mouth to say some rather uncouth words when Goku returned to the living room with a tray in his hands and a smile on his face.

“Got yer coffee. Oh, we watchin a movie? What’d ya pick ‘Geta?”

Vegeta looked into his hand to see Enter the Dragon and snorted. He remembered watching this movie nonstop as a child and practicing with homemade nunchucks he kept hidden under his mattress. He then fondly recalled having to think of excuses for the self-inflicted bloody nose or bruises on his face to his father from said nunchucks. Might as well play it. His father can complain the whole way through for all he cared. He put the dvd in, not answering Goku’s question, and took a seat next to the vampire on the loveseat.

His father was already holding a mug of coffee, and Goku passed him one after placing his arm around Vegeta’s shoulders.

Vegeta hid his flinch in his coffee, taking a sip as he crossed his legs at the ankles, “What blend is this, Kakarot?”

“The Panama one. Is it weird?”

“No, it’s good. Thank you,” Vegeta leaned back into the couch making Goku’s arm hang heavier along his shoulders.

Goku kissed his temple while Vegeta sipped at his coffee, “Notta problem.”

The next part was easy. All they had to do was get through the movie and send his father home. It was the home stretch, especially because Vegeta wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend to be cuddly with Goku. The vampire remained a stranger in a lot of ways, and he needed his guard up in case things went out of control. Who knew what kind of mischief the bastard would bring into Vegeta’s life next.

Goku decided to whisper commentary into his ear during the first half of the movie which earned the vampire a stern glare or a slap on the knee. Both were signs to shut up that Goku ignored much to his chagrin. Just as Goku leaned down to say something else, Vegeta’s phone rang during William’s death scene. That was odd. He took out his cell, the familiar song making his brow furrow with concern at the contact.

 Bulma calling…

“I’ll be right back,” Vegeta passed his empty mug to Goku.

“Want me ta pause it?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Bulma rarely called him. She always texted him unless she felt he was responding to slow to her messages, and even then she’d sooner face time him than dial his number. Something about needing to read his expression so she could talk to him easier. He went upstairs, hopping over the fence that kept Peaches from darting along the staircase and answered his phone.

“Vegeta? Are you there?” She sounded like she’d run a marathon.

“Yes. Is something wrong?”

“Oh thank god you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Some weird guy called me saying you were in a bad spot, and that I should check on you. I tried to ask for personal information, but he was vague about himself. Gave me a lot of details about you though, so I assumed he was a stalker or someone who actually knows you.”

Okay, that was weird. “Well, I’m fine, and I’m in the middle of something important. If you’re still worried, feel free to come over tomorrow.”

“You inviting me over of your own accord? Now I know something’s up. Did you get laid? Are you getting laid? Am I interrupting?”

“Goodbye Bulma.”

“Give me the DETA-.”

He hung up on her. Vegeta had a hunch, and, in order to confirm it, he had to sneak back downstairs. The one thing he appreciated about the townhouse was the stairway being out of sight from the living room entrance. His feet avoided the creaking boards as he made it to the bottom, his foot steps too soft to hear.

“I’ll give you five million,” Vegeta Sr’s voice was still low from what Vegeta could hear from the entryway.

“Mr. Vegeta…”

“To deny such a sum would be crippling yourself. You can establish a future of your own, invest a bit, and live off of the interest. Surely you don’t expect him to marry you.”

“I’m not sayin he would or wouldn’t.”

“So you agree.”

Goku sighed, “Mr. Vegeta, I can’t accept yer offer.”

“Why not? This is more than his current net worth, and I’ve promised you I’d cover the costs of the moving company separately.”

“That’s still not a good reason to leave somebody ya like.”

“All right,” Vegeta Sr cleared his throat, “It appears as though I’m negotiating incorrectly. Let me reiterate. How much would you like to leave Vegeta? No matter the cost, it’d have to be by the end of the month to look natural.”

Vegeta’s fingernails dug into his palms while he leaned against the wall. So his father did set up the fake call to Bulma, and now he was making an ass of himself. Vegeta wanted to scream. Wanted to stomp into the living room right now and call his father out, but where would that get him? Vegeta Sr always believed his choices were justified, and when they were wrong, he later convinced himself it was the best or only way to have handled the situation. Another part of Vegeta wanted to wait. The louder side told him to wait.

For his father, this situation was very real. He’d probably have done it to anyone he didn’t find acceptable, and that hurt. For Goku this would be easy money on top of a lie. Vegeta didn’t know all the conditions that were laid out for the exchange, but if it was never seeing him again then Goku would have no trouble with it. The vampire could vanish at the drop of a hat, get a new phone number, and Vegeta knew he’d never catch him. Were that the case then to his father, if Goku took the money and left, it would be another justification for Goku being unsuitable and forcing that woman down his path.

“Okay,” Goku trailed off.

Vegeta’s heart leaped into his throat.

“I guess I’d have ta take, hmmm, 20…..billion, no, wait. 25 billion and an island, and also a planet, and a few dozen star systems, and my own rocket ship with an astronaut crew.”

“…..Are you insane?”

“Nope. Ya told me to tell ya what I want in order ta leave ‘Geta, and that’s all I’d take. I’d probably still visit, but with my rocket ship, and he’d be impressed. At least I think he’d be.”

Vegeta covered his mouth, his ears twitching to follow the conversation.

“I know my son better than you, and I can tell you this won’t last. My final offer is eight million. It’s a fair number, and you won’t look like a fool when this relationship ends leaving you nothing to show for it.”

“With all due respect Mr. Vegeta, although ya haven’t really earned mine considerin how rude ya been all night, that don’t matter ta me. If what we have is over by the end of the year, or the end of the month, or the end of the week, I’d still be happy for the time I spent with him.”

“Why? In all his shortcomings, what could my son possibly have that would make you reject this offer?”

“Simple. He’s the funnest person I ever met.”

Vegeta could hear the grin in Goku’s voice, and decided he’d heard enough. His chest felt impossibly tight, and the warmth he’d been smothering for days burned his throat. Or maybe that was indigestion. Heartburn? His face was too hot for him to blame the feeling on such things, but he did anyway. Goku thought he was fun? Goku thought… Padding softly to the staircase, he walked normally halfway up and back down hitting a few of the creaking boards on the way. He was feeling some kind of way when he saw Goku perk up on the couch at the sight of him.

“How was the call dumplin’?”

“Fine.” Vegeta took note of his father’s stiff posture. Running with it, he sat next to Goku, close enough for their sides to touch this time. Vegeta let his head fall onto Goku’s shoulder causing the other to shift at the contact so his forearm rested over Vegeta’s chest.

He stopped the smug grin from coming onto his face when he felt a weight on his head. Goku let out a pleased sigh, his cheek flattening some of Vegeta’s hair. It was nice. This was nice. Vegeta denied that he was pressing closer to Goku because he’d grown warm in the house and that he smelled good. Nope. This was the biggest fuck you he’d given his father in years, and he was going to revel in it.

Goku remained oddly silent as the movie came to an end. This was it. They made it! The charade was up, and all Vegeta had to do was say a curt goodbye to his father. Goku stood up and started gathering the dishes only for Vegeta to grab his shirt sleeve.

“It’s fine, I can clean this up Kakarot.”

“No, I got it. You gotta walk yer Pa out to the car,” Goku looked up at Vegeta Sr, “It was nice meetin ya Mr. Vegeta.”

Vegeta helped him get the rest of the dishware onto the tray, “Don’t handwash them. We have a dishwasher for a reason.”

“I can do what I want,” Goku said. With another smile and a wave goodbye, he went into the kitchen.

“I see he at least knows his place,” Vegeta Sr stood as he started for the door.

He sneered at his father’s back as he went to grab his jacket, “It’s his retreat when he has to deal with sour guests.”

“It’s more polite than brawling,” Vegeta Sr put on his shoes first.

“Brawling is more efficient to get the point across sometimes.”

“Are you saying you two fight each other?”

Vegeta helped his father get his jacket on, “When words aren’t enough. It’s cathartic actually.”

His father’s glare was nothing to the anger Vegeta felt. This evening wasn’t a disaster, but the betrayal he felt with Vegeta Sr’s offer stung. There were so many things he wanted to say. How tired he was of not being good enough for his father. How he’d given up his dreams just to do what he was told. How the disappointment and regret ate away at him everyday in ways that stunted his ability to communicate to himself and others in a healthy manner. How all of his shitty problems were his fucking father’s fault, and maybe if he’d bothered telling Vegeta even once that he was proud. No, not even that. If he’d said one time that Vegeta had done a good job, then maybe he wouldn’t be so messed up now.

The two stood in the doorway, his father on the other side, while Vegeta held onto the doorknob. Then, for the first time since Vegeta could remember his father’s eyes softened for a moment.

“Are you happy with him?”

It was like a punch to the gut. When did he care? Why did he care? Where was this coming from? How dare he! He’s never once asked Vegeta if he was happy, and now he decides when Vegeta’s pretending to be in a fake relationship to be concerned with him? To try and be a father?

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself stiff as he said, “Yes.”

“Then I have no choice but to accept this…” He slowly pat Vegeta on the arm with a nod, “Goodnight Vegeta.”

Vegeta returned the nod, and watched him walk down the porch steps to get into the car. The black impala drove off before Vegeta slammed the door shut. He was shaking. He really tricked him. Are you happy with him? Vegeta started to laugh. He pressed the butt of his palms against his closed eyes as he hunched forward, his laughter shaking his whole upper body while he stood on unsteady legs. Happy with him? Happy with Goku? What a fucking joke. Of course his father would approve of the one thing that wasn’t even real. Of course the first time he managed to earn his father’s acceptance, forgo the ridicule, and even get genuine interest shown for his well-being was over a lie. But that was Vegeta’s whole life wasn’t it? Pretend to be this for Bulma and her friends. Pretend to be that for his job. Follow the steps laid out by his father when he was born and don’t stray from the path unless he was willing to face the fallout. Lie after lie after lie, and what did he have to show for it? Vegeta was alone with a cat that would die in ten years, a townhouse with furniture he barely used, and a friend who would take all her friends with her whenever she decided to settle down. And what was he supposed to do then?

His laughter was hysterical at this point, his face wet and the taste of snot on his tongue. Who was he supposed to be then? Would he wait for another breakdown as work ate away whatever segments of a lifestyle he put together? Would he just wake up one day in the hospital bed again due to his routine becoming so stale and stressful? Would the white noise he let himself fade into get heavy enough that he’d go to sleep one night and never wake up?

He faintly heard his name called, but his arm had already reached up to cover his face. Are you happy with him? _Are you happy with him? **Are you happy with him?**_ No, he wasn’t happy with Goku, or anyone else for the matter. Hell, Vegeta wasn’t happy with himself. Vegeta couldn’t stand himself. Loathed himself and every speck of himself he could remember being. He wanted to break everything down into pieces. Fizzle out this ache in his chest and burn the rest down until there was nothing left.

Vegeta’s laughter faded between wheezing and sobbing as he fought to catch his breath. Why was he reacting like this? Why did it matter that his father decided to give a shit? It shouldn’t. He’d accepted that his father would never admit Vegeta did anything right. Maybe that was why what he said dug deeper than any mention of his son’s faults. Cause the sudden concern couldn’t be a change of heart. It couldn’t be a voicing of his Vegeta Sr’s own shortcomings as a parent with an attempt to reach out. To connect. It couldn’t be anything Vegeta ever wanted.

A faint humming managed to reach the edge of his ear. He wondered if he even wanted his father’s approval anymore? Did it matter? He’d been running after it for so long. A flicker in the thick fog covered in street lights, all turning into false leads until he managed to stumble in the right direction. He needed to breathe. He was drifting too far again, and he had shit to do. Two arms tightened around his waist and the humming he’d closed off grew louder at a steady pace. Right in his ear actually. Still soft, but when did Goku start holding him? The vampires arms were wrapped snug around his waist, and his head rested beside Vegeta’s.

“Kakarot,” His throat felt raw, and his stomach hurt when he breathed.

“Vegeta,” Goku’s nose was pressed into Vegeta’s temple.

“What were you humming?”

“Ocarina of time.”

“…what?”

“Ya know? Legend of Zelda? The music is nice. Calmin.”

“Right.”

He shifted in Goku’s arms to get his hands down to his sides. There was a wet spot on Goku’s shirt which was definitely a combination of his snot and tears. Ugh. He really cried in front of Goku of all people. “You can let go of me now.”

“But yer so waaarrm,” Goku nuzzled his cheek into Vegeta’s hair, hugging him a little tighter.

“LET GO OF ME THIS INSTANT YOU BUFFOON.”

“But Geeetaa, yer so waaarrmm,” He leaned forward as he hugged him, forcing Vegeta to lean back.

Vegeta hackles started to rise when something clicked. Goku was doing this on purpose. Was he trying to make him feel better, or get his mind off things by annoying him? Either way it was kind of sweet? This hug was going on for too long. He shouldn’t be thinking of Goku’s obnoxiousness as anything but a pain in the ass. “I know what you’re doing.”

Goku pressed their foreheads together, “Hm?”

“What did I tell you about pretending to give a shit about me.”

“I ain’t pretendin ‘Geta. You know that.”

He did know that, but there was a difference between knowing and admitting to something, and Vegeta wanted to do neither. The loss of contact was felt when Goku let him go to stretch his arms up and yawn. The fabric of the plain orange shirt was tight around his chest and arms as he did so, making Vegeta wonder if the man ever bought clothes that fit. Considering the bright, ugly palettes the vampire put himself in, he could only conclude that Goku grabbed the brightest thing in the largest size and called it a day.

Come to think of it, they hadn’t discussed what would happen after Goku left. It’s not like he could be rid of the vampire. Goku seemed to pop up whenever he liked whether Vegeta wanted to see him or not. It also didn’t help that he stupidly told Goku they were friends. Sure, the sex was nice, but Vegeta wasn’t about to start dating anyone. Besides, how cliché would this be if Vegeta started a relationship with the first person he bothered sleeping with? No, Vegeta was above that. He had standards. It didn’t matter how nice, or good of a cook Goku was. It also didn’t matter that he was attractive and sometimes a little cute when he wasn’t being a pain in the ass. He sucked Vegeta dry one too many times, and he wasn’t a blood bank damn it!

“Guess I better start getting my stuff,” Goku said taking off his headband.

Vegeta watched him untie the apron from his waist, wrapping his headband in it and go into the living room. Were those jeans always that tight around his hips? No. Stop. He’d thought with his dick once this evening. He didn’t need to go two for two. Following Goku, he began gathering up the knitted covers from the furniture. Blankets, coasters, a few pictures from the wall, and Vegeta’s home began to feel more bare than before. Which made no sense, because before he’d felt the space too cluttered with all the furniture he barely used but served decorative purposes. They set everything they gathered in a pile on the coffee table before heading to the small alcove by the front door.

“How did you get the paintings in here? Your suitcase wasn’t that big,” Vegeta took down the large portrait of a cottage sitting in a flower field.

“Put ‘em up while you were sleepin. Ya seemed like the artsy type, and I don’t bother hangin ‘em up in my own place,” Goku fiddled with the flowers in a painted vase.

“Why did you get those?”

“I got ‘em for ya.”

“Why?”

“Cause they smell nice, and you don’t.”

Vegeta set the painting down gently, “Don’t be a child.”

“Don’t be obtuse then. Ya know why I got ‘em ya manlet.”

“What did you just call me!”

“Sorry, fun size is probably better. Specially cause I can eat ya in one bite,” Goku winked at him.

Their bickering went on like this, Vegeta’s face growing warmer with anger and embarrassment as they finished the small alcove. Two rooms down. Three more to go. Well, four more to go not including the bathroom. God, this would take all night, and he had work tomorrow. How much stuff had Goku put into his home while he slept? Vegeta didn’t know what was worse, the cleaning or the fact that their conversation was more comfortable than unbearable. He’d forced back laughter with some of Goku’s responses in the kitchen, and contemplated on what was happening to him. Was he supposed to feel this okay with someone? Was he really going to let this feeling be caused by Goku of all people? And why did the bastard have so many commemorative mugs in Vegeta’s cabinets!

“Wow, puttin’ everything in here sure is faster than gettin it all out,” Goku said with the twelfth mug being placed on the counter.

“I can see that.”

“Kinda wanna go upstairs though, and see if yer dad was really snoopin’.”

Vegeta grabbed the last of the moomin anniversary mugs from his cabinet, setting them into the pile on the table, “How would you be able to tell? The point of snooping is to put shit back exactly as you saw it.”

“That’s cause I got vampire eyes.”

“Adding vampire in front of a feature doesn’t make it special.”

“Yeah it does, and I put some naughty pictures of me in yer office desk drawer. Pretty sure he wouldn’t wanna touch ‘em if he was lookin through everythin.”

“You did WHAT.”

“It’s not a big deal if he wasn’t snoopin though, right?”

Knowing his father, it was a coin toss between which room he checked out first combined with how long he took to set up the phone call for Bulma. The office would be closest to the bathroom, but the bedroom would also be the most revealing. Did he snoop? What did Goku mean by naughty pictures? How far did the idiot go? Open shirt pictures? Open pants pictures? Underwear pictures? Did he-? Did he pose naked with his-?

“Do ya wanna see ‘em Geta?” Goku’s breath tickled the back of Vegeta’s ear earning the vampire a smack in the face.

“No, I don’t. Get back to work.”

Moving from the kitchen to the dining room, Vegeta realized one thing. This was going to take forever. Exhaustion seeped heavier into his bones with the knowledge of waking up early tomorrow. They could finish it tomorrow night, right? Vegeta wouldn’t be home for most of the day, and he’d have more energy to put things away knowing he’d have the weekend off. Goku started pulling pictures off the walls when one of the smaller knit coasters slipped out of his hands. He muttered a whoops as he set his things down to pick it up, his jeans hugging his hips and thighs rather tightly. Vegeta refused to think with his dick, but… He thought about his momentary crisis. Wouldn’t kicking Goku out and pretending he didn’t exist keep him going in the same direction? Who knows when he’d find another man he wanted to waste his patience on? If any of them were as exhausting as the group of dumbasses he currently endured, it’d probably be never.

Maybe he could stray even further away from the familiar? Goku was already doing his best to wear him down, and Vegeta liked the attention sometimes. He could see where this goes. Try and have fun for once in his li- oh kami he sounded like Bulma. That was the worst thing about having her around. Her advice would flood into his mind and sound like his own. A travesty. He rubbed a hand down his face, weighed the pros and cons, and thought he might as well be a little “spontaneous”. He’d have to do something to distract Goku from making a smartass comment on staying the night.

“Let’s finish this tomorrow. It’s late.”

“Huh?” The vampire turned his head, setting his armful down onto the dining room table.

“Come to bed.”

Goku raised an eyebrow. Was he asking if Vegeta was sure, or did he want clarification cause Vegeta wasn’t about to repeat himself.

His face grew warm as he reached up to his shirt collar and popped a button loose. If this was a mistake, he wasn’t going to do it in halves. Goku’s eyes snapped down to the movement, following the motion as Vegeta popped open a second, and then a third. Vegeta would pick himself up later if this turned out to be a mistake. He just didn’t need to think too hard on it now. His face grew hot when Goku’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, the thought of feeling it on his skin made a shiver run down his spine. He’d only felt the cool appendage in a few places, but how would it feel anywhere else? Vegeta swallowed the spit that built up in his mouth, too far gone to go back on the offer. “You heard me, Kakarot.”

“Ooh ‘Geta~.”

The next thing he knew there was a mouth covering his own, as Goku’s hands wandered down his sides lifting him from the floor by cupping his ass. His hands first flew to Goku’s cheeks for something to hold onto, but worked their way to Goku’s shoulders as calloused fingers dug into the soft cotton covering those muscles. Sharp teeth nipped at his lips and the brief feeling of vertigo followed as he was carried up the stairs. His anxiety allowed for a second moment of panic to speak up. What if this was the last time they did anything? What if Goku vanished the next morning with all his things after finally getting Vegeta to admit his attraction? What if Goku didn’t leave the next morning? What if he stalled taking his stuff out of the house until Vegeta got too tired to yell at him for it? He didn’t know which was worse. Too bad he didn’t have the focus to debate further on it, since Goku’s lips wandered from his mouth to the sensitive scarring under his jawline.

Hell, future Vegeta had been doing a good job of handling his problems recently.

Might as well let him handle this one too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the omake is finished, much shorter, and shall be posted after being beta'd but i gotta give my beta a break after this monster of a chapter. however it does give me time to work on my next kakavege fic which im praying will actually remain at 5-6 chapters. thank you all for joining me on this journey uwu!


	9. Dig Your Own Grave

Goku moaned low in his throat as he pushed his crotch into Vegeta’s palm, “Stop teasin’ me.”

“Weren’t you the one bragging about your stamina earlier? Maybe you should learn some patience if you’re going to talk shit,” Vegeta moved his hand away to shuck off Goku’s sleep pants.

They were lying in bed, still clad in their underwear while Vegeta straddled the vampire’s waist. Vegeta didn’t actually know what he was doing. He could only mimic what Goku had done to him before. Rub his hands down Goku’s sides. Press kisses into the cool skin of his neck. Drag his tongue along his jugular. Ignore the doorbell ringing downstairs. Wait.

“Was that the doorbell?” Goku had one hand in Vegeta’s hair, looking towards the bedroom door.

“It’s probably the books I ordered last week. They can leave them on the doorstep,” Vegeta bit none too gently on the patch of skin he’d kissed earlier.

“What did ya order?”

“Don’t distract me.” He coaxed another moan from Goku as he stroked the mans nipples with his thumbs. “Or do you want me to stop?”

“Noo,” Goku whined, raising his hips up.

Vegeta hmphed, working his way down to Goku’s chest, his favorite part. It took a little longer to get used to the lack of a heartbeat, but the way Goku panted while Vegeta left marks on his chest was more valuable anyway. His pecs were also very nice to squeeze, and from the way Goku’s breath stuttered, Vegeta knew his lover appreciated the attention.

The doorbell rang a second time, followed by a loud knocking. Persistent delivery man. Didn’t matter though. They could leave a note on his door like the rest, and he’d pick up the package some other day. Nothing would deter Vegeta after his planning. He had a sleepy Goku on the weekend, an unopened box of condoms in the drawer, and the brief shower they shared waking him up enough to get his head together. They were going to get past blow jobs today, and actually-.

“Vegeta? Are you okay? You didn’t answer my texts,” Bulma’s voice came from downstairs.

He froze with Goku’s hard nipple between his lips and closed his eyes in defeat. Damn it! What part of emergencies only did she not understand? He sat up when he saw Goku open his mouth and clamped a hand down over it so he couldn’t speak.

“Don’t say anything.”

Goku raised an eyebrow.

“She doesn’t know about this yet.”

Shaking his head to remove Vegeta’s hand, Goku whispered, “Why not?”

“I’m not ready to tell her or anyone that I’m-.,” No, Bulma knew he was gay before he did, so that wouldn’t be fair. Best word it differently. “That I’ve lowered my standards.”

“Wow ‘Geta, tell me how ya really feel,” Goku sat up in bed, moving Vegeta with him. “So, how’re we gonna explain this?”

“Vegeta! I better NOT find your dead body up there!” Bulma’s footsteps started up the stairs.

“We’re not explaining anything. Hide until I can get her out of here,” Vegeta was out of Goku’s lap pushing him out of bed.

“But-.”

“No buts,” He hissed. “Do your stupid floating thing and hide under the bed,” Vegeta got off the mattress himself, frantically adjusting the blankets so they hung over the edge of the frame. Goku stopped arguing with him, getting under the bed like he was told, with a pout on his lips. Just as he turned around to go to his closet, his bedroom door opened.

“DAMN IT WOMAN, LEARN TO KNOCK,” Vegeta covered his crotch, despite his underwear.

“Oh, so you are alive.”

“You sound disappointed.”

Bulma rolled her eyes and turned around, “Go ahead and cover up your majesty. We gotta talk.”

“Is this an actual emergency, or are you here to blackmail me again?” Vegeta went over to his closet pulling out his robe. It’d do better to hide his flagging erection than his pajama pants would. He could also hide the hickeys dotting his body she hadn’t seemed to notice. Kami knows what would come out of her mouth if she did.

“It’s a check-up.”

“I think I’d prefer the blackmail.”

Bulma turned back around, her hands on her hips, “Vegeta.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you though? I haven’t seen you in almost two months! Sure you respond to my texts, and I know you need time to yourself, but the last time you went for this long you...” Bulma let the sentence trail off. They both knew what she would bring up, and he clenched his fist in the front of his robe.

He should’ve been more careful about ghosting her. Vegeta didn’t feel bad for doing it, but she worried about him incessantly because she cared. It was a burden on them both. A burden he sometimes appreciated because it would get him out of a situation before it snowballed, but a burden nonetheless. The thing is, he couldn’t explain to her why he was ditching as it was a combination of work, dates he knew were dates, relaxing at home, and the occasional fumbling in bed with Goku.

“This isn’t like the last time. I can assure you that I’m fine,” Vegeta tied his robe closed so he wouldn’t have to hold the front. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Can I ask with what, or is that private too?” Bulma went over to sit on the bed, and Vegeta followed suit. “Did you get into drugs?”

Vegeta snorted, “As if I have the time to waste finding a decent weedman. No, I’ve been….re-decorating. My therapist mentioned something off hand about feng shui, and I’m giving it a try.”

“I was wondering what all that stuff downstairs was for.”

Vegeta had managed to get Goku to remove more than half his things after the trial with his father, but Vegeta found a random item back in its place each time the idiot came over. He was planning on letting Goku put two more things into his home before putting it all in a box for the trash compacter the next day. Let’s see the bastard try moving his shit in without Vegeta noticing again.

“Any other concerns I need to put to rest?”

Bulma lightly slapped his arm, “Yoga on Saturdays. You aren’t missing anymore sessions.”

“Yoga isn’t doing shit for me. I’m getting back on the elliptical.”

“So you’ve finally accepted how fat your ass has gotten?”

“Bulma!” A loud grumbling came from below the bed, and Vegeta’s eyes widened.

“What was that?”

“My stomach,” He quickly lied. “I was taking a nap when you barged in, and I missed my usual lunch hour.”

“Good thing I came when I did then. Let’s get lunch, your treat. We can catch up,” Bulma stood up crossing her hands behind her back.

Shit. How was he supposed to get out of this one? “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I have food here,” Vegeta crossed his arms, looking at his feet when another loud grumbling came from under the bed. Damn it, Goku.

“Okay, my treat then! It’s not like you’re eating anything besides convenience store meals and frozen food from the grocery store anyhow. Plus, you sound like you’re starving.”

“It’s not just that…I…also don’t have any clean clothes to wear. It’s laundry day,” Vegeta stood up, ready to shoo her out of the room.

“You don’t have to come dressed to the nines. We’re just gonna get take out, and come back here. We’ll even go through the drive thru if you’re that embarrassed.”

Damn it, why did she have to be so reasonable? He needed to think of a reason to get her out of his place before the idiot under his bed revealed himself. Standing up, he started half-guiding, half-walking with her out of his bedroom. He knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he needed to handle this carefully. “I’m not embarrassed. Now’s simply not a good time. Peaches is sick. She has to take medicine soon, and you know how she fights me. I have to eat fast and mentally prepare for my plan of attack.”

“We’ll be gone for like twenty minutes. Thirty tops if there’s a line, and we catch every light both ways,” Bulma shimmied her arm out of his grasp when they reached the top of the stairs. A breeze flew past them making her jump as she looked around. “What was that?”

“I left the window open.”

“In the hallway?”

“I left all the upstairs windows open. For fresh air. It’s another part of the feng shui thing.”

“Riiight,” Bulma narrowed her eyes at him.

“I have to open the windows downstairs too, but not while the ones upstairs are open. A balance of yin and yang is necessary.” Vegeta was going to go on when the clatter of dishes from the kitchen made his heart skip a beat. That better be Peaches and not someone who should be hiding under the god damn bed.

“What was that?” Bulma started down the stairs.

Vegeta followed after her, his arms ready to grab her and push her out if she saw too much, “Peaches probably playing on the counter again. She gets extra fussy taking medicine on a schedule.”

“That sounded like dishes.”

“I have to get child locks. She figured out how to open the cabinets a few days ago, but I’ve been putting it off.”

Bulma turned the corner as soon as she reached the last step and looked into the kitchen. Vegeta looked behind her seeing everything spick and span except for a plate with a few crumbs sitting next to an open box of donuts.

He held back a sigh of relief and cleared his throat, “See. It’s nothing.”

“Are those Entenmanns?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you hated those.”

He did hate them, but Goku insisted on keeping a box in the house, as it was the one sweet he knew Vegeta wouldn’t touch. “They’ve grown on me.”

“Okay then,” Bulma left the kitchen after grabbing a donut for herself.

Vegeta followed after her, his eyes drifting over to the dining room to see Goku under the table behind a chair. He peaked between the wooden legs, a donut in each hand, and a third in his mouth. Vegeta was going to kill him. He mouthed the words “go back upstairs”, and made sure Bulma wasn’t looking back when he made it out. Peaches decided now was the time to come downstairs, meowing at Bulma as she crossed between her legs.

“Hey there girl! Wait. Why are you coming down the stairs when you were just in the kitchen?”

“It might not have been her. I bought some new dishes that are taking up space. Maybe something fell,” Vegeta recovered quickly. He needed to get her out of here before he ran out of lies.

Bulma kept one donut in her hand, scooping Peaches up with her other arm and cradling her close, “Here. How about you give her her medicine now, and we can go grab something.”

“She’d claw you.”

"Since when were you that concerned about me?" Bulma finished the donut in four large bites, her cheeks stuffed, but able to hold Peaches still with both hands. “Ready.”

Vegeta didn’t have any medicine to give Peaches. No helping it then. “Bulma, you need to go. I want to be by myself today.”

“You’ve been by yourself,” She almost choked on her mouthful, coughing for a second until she managed to force it down, “For two months. Not to mention how strange you’re acting as soon as I decide to pop in. Are you hiding something from me?”

_Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want_

_So tell me what you want, what you really, really want_

_I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want_

_So tell me what you want, what you really, really want_

_I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)_

_I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah_

The music came from upstairs, and Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to fucking murder Goku.

“That’s my alarm. For my nap in case I slept for too long, but you showed up and I forgot to turn it off.” Vegeta said as another breeze passed them. “I must’ve left the alcove window open. That’s the only reason the wind would get so strong.”

Bulma gave him a deadpanned look. “Is someone else here?”

“No.” The alarm continued to play upstairs starting from the top again. “Well, you can see I’m fine, and I can’t join you for lunch. Leave.”

“Fine, but we’re going to lunch tomorrow, and you’re paying.” Bulma put Peaches in his arms and pat his cheek. “Don’t ghost me again.”

“I won’t.” Vegeta would promise if it meant she’d leave sooner. He walked her to the door, getting a brief hug, and shut the door behind her.

“Whew, that was close,” Goku said from behind him.

Vegeta took a deep breath in through his nostrils and let Peaches fall out of his arms. Turning on his heel, he tackled Goku to the ground, cursing at him as they wrestled. He almost got them caught! He couldn’t wait ten minutes not to pull his stupid vampire bullshit, and what was that alarm anyway? His robe fell open, dropping down his shoulders, then being torn from his back making him snarl. Goku kept a firm grasp on Vegeta’s wrists to keep from getting punched, using his weight and legs to keep from getting pinned. They rolled on the floor again until Goku pressed him down, straddling Vegeta’s waist and keeping his arms trapped above his head.

“Would ya look at that,” Goku grinned, his teeth sharp. “I’m on top again.”

“I’m going to kill you and make it look like a damn accident,” he growled.

“Calm down ‘Geta, we didn’t get caught.”

“No thanks to you.”

“And~.”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, “And?”

Goku pressed his ass into Vegeta’s crotch, letting go of his wrists, “We can get back ta business. Right?”

Vegeta reached up, grabbing a handful of Goku’s hair and bringing his face down, “I’m-.”

The door swung open with Bulma yelling, “Sorry Vegeta! I forgot my….keys…”

Vegeta’s eyes were wide in horror as she took in the sight. With their position and lack of clothing there was no lying out of this one. The look of shock on her face turned thoughtful, and then to outright glee as she grinned at them both. Vegeta’s face grew hot with a blush when her grin turned smug. Reaching over, she plucked her keys from the coat rack next to the door.

“Thanks Vegeta, now Krillin and Yamcha owe me 50 bucks.”

His blood ran cold. There was a bet?

“Take care of him, Goku,” She winked at them, softly shutting the door behind her.

Vegeta was dead silent at the horror of being caught. They were betting on him? How long had this been going? What gave him away? Who orchestrated it!

“Huh. Comin out was easier than you tho-ACK.” Goku held onto Vegeta’s wrist, “G-Geta.”

His hand closed tighter around Goku’s neck in fury. Vegeta knew he couldn’t kill the vampire like this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the Final Chapter which is an omake, epilogue? Name it what you will, but this is the end of this story.
> 
> Huge thanks to [Sevargs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs) for being so patient with me popping into their DMs. Especially with how long the last chapter was. (i was threatened with being thrown into the sea >:0c )
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and for your comments. I read over them dozens of times while working on this fic, and it really kept me going seeing your reactions. As this is the last chapter, I'll be responding to any questions that you want to leave here.
> 
> In the meantime, I am currently (very slowly) working on a different Kakavege fic, and I've been sucked into Radcha hell so we'll see how that turns out I suppose.


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